Kl'-tC-t J:. ... :u!tb 




■ 



Z. X^o-M^v^OCr^A- ^^cri^^jAajn- ^ 



1 «*-^ 



aifreb 3&agmonti 

Born 
August 31, 1865, at Lakeville, Conn. 

Died 
October 28, 1901, at Brooklyn, N. Y. 






My strength is as the strength of ten, 
Because my heart is pure" 



For thou shalt see the Vision, when I go! 



43qnt 

33 



This memorial contains the principal addresses, reso- 
lutions, etc., called forth by my son's death, to- 
gether with extracts from a few of the many 
hundred letters of sympathy received by his par- 
ents. Of the latter, some are printed with the full 
names of the writers; the authorship of the re- 
mainder is indicated by initials only. In either 
case, I feel sure that the writers will forgive me 
for the publicity thus given to their personal ex- 
pressions of sympathy. Such testimony mightily 
strengthens our conviction that our son's brief life 
was not lived in vain. 

R. W. R. 



jftmeral ^>ertuce 

At Plymouth Church, Brooklyn, N. Y. 
Tuesday Evening, October 29, 1901. 

The service, conducted by Rev. Newell Dwight 
Hillis, D.D., pastor of Plymouth Church, began 
with the hymn, " Though love may weep with break- 
ing heart," followed by an invocation and a second 
hymn, " Tranquil and peaceful is the path to 
Heaven." After the reading of Scripture, the fol- 
lowing addresses were delivered : 

ADDRESS BY 
REV. NEWELL DWIGHT HILLIS, D.D. 

Attached to this wreath of flowers is the legend: 
"To Our Sir Galahad '■_, from the Knights of the 
Round Table" Verily, these are fitting words; 
for our Sir Galahad has won his quest, and seen the 
Holy Grail. The boys and girls whom our dear 
friend assembled in this band of workers came to look 
upon their leader as the ideal of their true knight, 



6 

who made his conscience to be his king, whose glory 
was redressing human wrong, who spake no slander, 
no, nor listened to it, and who through all the tract of 
years wore " the white flower of a blameless life." 
And now he has gone to the Vale of Avalon and 
found the Islands of the Blessed. Having come to 
us out of the deep, into the deep he has gone. He 
has fought the good fight. He has transformed in- 
nocence into character. And the King who rules over 
all brave soldiers has counted this young knight re- 
turning from a holy war, His well-beloved friend. 

When Prince Albert the Good died, Tennyson 
wrote : " There is but one event in London to-day, and 
that event — our Prince is dead." And here in 
Plymouth Church, now, there is but one event — 
Alfred Raymond is dead. Our great multitude has 
but one heart, and that heart is very sore. This church 
had for Alfred Raymond a special love, and in him 
an honest pride. We were proud of him for what he 
had done ; we loved him for what he was. We built 
our hopes upon him, because we felt that in coming 
years we could not expect too much from him. Our 
church is to be congratulated because of many young 
men who stand at the forefront of our activities, and 
toil as leaders in this club and that society; but of 
all those who march at the head of their various col- 
umns, not one will be more missed than this fallen 
leader. From the hour when he was first stricken, 



many of us felt that it was impossible that he could 
leave us ; the ground of our hope was that we did not 
know how we could get along without him. Our very 
need argued his recovery. The emergency that was 
upon us lent us hope. For him to go, was like the 
removing of hill and mountain out of their places. 
For the great love that all bore him, everything that 
skill of physicians, nurses, faithful friends, and lovers 
could do, was done. After the death of other men, 
friends have imagined a remedy that might have been 
been used, or suggested a plan that might possibly 
have rescued life from the jaws of death. These 
after-thoughts are harrowing and vain. But we 
need never distress our souls by such reflections in 
connection with the death of our dear friend. Night 
after night, through all his illness, a most skilful 
physician and friend was in the house with the suf- 
ferer. Medical resources that not one patient in ten 
thousand could have, he had, and always. Nurses 
who knew his temperament, his special dangers, were 
ever with him. Those who loved him made a brave 
fight. If ever the will of God was declared fully in 
events, it was declared to him when the final signals 
for his departure were hung out. 

Now that he has gone, we remember the words of 
Mr. Beecher, whom he did so love: " To live is to try 
to be a man ; to die is to become one. To live is to be 
in the twilight ; to die is to find the morning breaking 



8 

into noon. To live is to be in the ore ; to die is to be 
stamped with the image and superscription of God." 
Though to us his departure is the uttermost of mis- 
fortune, yet to him death is good fortune, the sign 
and seal of God's approval. Hence we rejoice and, 
even in our grief, cry out, not " Farewell! " but " All 
hail! " in glad congratulation. 

Standing here and looking into his face, from 
which the angel of death has smoothed away the lines 
of pain and sickness, we turn our eyes from his white 
brow to the face of his great teacher, hanging there 
upon the wall. Lying one day on the grass in the 
orchard at Peekskill, Mr. Beecher discoursed at 
length about Alfred Raymond, who was then a youth 
in Yale College. Speaking of his hopes for Alfred, 
Mr. Beecher said of him, " He is my son, begotten 
in the Gospel." Others there were in Plymouth 
Church, who were the products of Mr. Beecher's 
teachings only in part. This church has many great 
names on its roll of heroes. It has had merchants 
whose fame went round the world ; lawyers also, and 
editors, physicians, and public men of every rank and 
class. But many of these men had been shaped in 
their essential characteristics before they came under 
Mr. Beecher's influence. They were the sons of great 
physical strength. In them were assembled the vir- 
tues of ancestors many and noble. They came up to 
the great city to make their fortune. They brought 



9 

with them qualities that made them kings among their 
fellows. At twenty or thirty or forty, they came un- 
der the influence of the great preacher. He perfected 
them, but others had stretched the canvas and painted 
the outline of the portrait. Mr. Beecher did but put 
in the final tints and lend glory and luster to the face. 
But he felt that by way of pre-eminence Alfred Ray- 
mond was spiritually his son ; born in a home of par- 
ents whose youth he had trained, and who had lived 
their lives in the atmosphere of his presence and 
teaching. These parents took the principles for 
which Mr. Beecher stood, and set them upon the plas- 
tic and receptive mind of the child in the cradle. Al- 
fred Raymond fed his intellect on Mr. Beecher's 
statement of truth. The religious affections which 
Mr. Beecher declared lent richness to his heart. He 
accepted Mr. Beecher's idea of the love of God, the 
principle of sympathy and self-sacrifice, and the deep 
truths upon which he laid out the general lines of his 
life. Therefore the pastor felt a natural pride in the 
child of his instruction. He pointed to him as the 
fruitage and product of his teaching. " This is the 
kind of character," he said, "that I have tried to 
rear." The old Calvinists pointed to their men of 
iron; Cromwell said that John Milton was the type 
of man that could be produced by the principles for 
which he himself stood. Do you ask what kind of 
character is produced by Mr. Beecher's system of the- 



10 

ology? We point to Alfred Raymond. You speak 
of duty and invincible adherence to the standards of 
righteousness ; what Puritan ever more truly followed 
the dictates of conscience, as the needle follows the 
pole, than Alfred Raymond? Did he not love truth 
in the inner parts ? Was he not ready to swear to his 
own hurt, and change not ? Did you ever know any- 
one who could more truly say with Paul, " I am will- 
ing to spend and be spent, even though the more I 
love the less I am beloved?' 3 What youth ever had 
more moral earnestness, a purer heart, a more stain- 
less life? What an atmosphere of goodness he car- 
ried! What happiness he diffused on every side! 
What simplicity and sincerity were his! How keen 
his sense of justice! What genius for friendship! 
Indeed, how shall we summarize his character better 
than by saying: He loved; he was most lovable; 
he was the well-beloved one. 

In this hour, when we keep our tryst with memory, 
and recall what he was, one thought trembles upon all 
lips — the thought of his versatility, and the various 
forms of his service. If we speak of our indebted- 
ness to him, we owe him for service in every depart- 
ment of our church life. Indeed, there was almost 
nothing that man does that he could not do. He was 
a scholar, and he loved books. He was a teacher with 
skill in assembling the treasures of wisdom and giv- 
ing them forth to pupils in our school. He was both 



11 

orator and actor, able alike to inspire us in our prayer- 
meeting, and delight us elsewhere with his interpreta- 
tions of wit and humor. He was a musician, and one 
of the leading forces in our choir ; yet he could write 
the words of ' The Heir Apparent/' and then en- 
tertain our League the long evening through with 
his unaided skill. He was an artist ; and I have seen 
him make the title-page of a book as beautiful with 
blue and gold and crimson as the page of an illumi- 
nated missal. He was an architect, and had the real 
creative touch. In an era when the art of letter- 
writing is almost lost, he could describe the foreign 
city in which he lingered, the battle-scene, the old 
cathedral, the fallen tower, the great picture, until 
you felt that you were yourself seeing what he saw, 
while over all his pages breathed the sense of in- 
finite leisure — the true test of letter-writing. 

But above all he was the true Christian man. Day 
by day he tried to do Christ's work. His good deeds 
for our poor and weak now glow like bright torches, 
flaming in the night of misfortune. That story fills 
our hearts with gladness and our eyes with tears. 
Here and now we forget how versatile he was, be- 
cause we remember how good he was. He was our 
bravest; he was also our best. Where we failed, he 
succeeded. You and I know that we shall come out 
of this long life-battle and conflict with sin, our gar- 
ments all begrimed with smoke, our shields dented, 



12 

our swords dulled. But our Sir Galahad went 
through battles as thick with peril as any we fight, 
and came out victorious. His example shames us, 
even while it lends us new incentives and nobler am- 
bition. He did, what we have taught. He was, what 
we aspire to be. He has fallen in the battle ; but fall- 
ing, he shall slay more in his death than in his life. 
And now, while he passes upward, we cry out, " God 
accept him; Christ receive him!" 



ADDRESS BY REV. ROBERT E. CARTER 

OF WASHINGTON, CONN. 

God hath His mysteries of grace, 

Ways that we can not tell, 
But He hides them deep, like the secret sleep 

Of him he loved so well." 

We do not apologize for God; we do not make 
excuses; we do not even try to explain. God 
doeth gloriously ; His ways are triumphant ways ; we 
believe, we trust, we hope. We have traveled far 
enough with this Friend to know that though He 
often does things strangely, He never does anything 
unkindly, or unwisely. He doeth all things well. 
Martin Luther used to say: 'The Lord our God 
doeth like a printer, who setteth his type backward; 



13 

we cannot gather the meaning here, but it shall come 
out clearly when we see the fair print in the life be- 
yond." 

But the goodness of God is not all written in hiero- 
glyphics, for whose interpretation we must wait until 
hereafter. Much of God's goodness we have re- 
vealed even now. In Alfred Raymond's life, here so 
suddenly, so sadly ended, how much of God's great 
goodness to us already appears. Peculiarly winning ! 
wonderfully gifted! How many gifts of God were 
in the giving of this life ! One of the marvels of re- 
cent physical discovery is that of a composition which 
gives a great deal of light in a very short time — a flash 
full of exceeding brightness. Ah! God made that 
discovery long, long ago ; and He used it in the mak- 
ing of some human lives. I suppose that if we 
counted the days out of the year, in which Alfred 
Raymond was with us in Washington, they would be 
really very few, a day or two days for each week of 
the short summer; and yet how much his life was to 
our place ! What brightness it brought ! He was the 
center of all our best cheer. We waited for him and 
depended on him in all our merrymaking. In our 
times of gladness your Sir Galahad was our King Al- 
fred! So much brightness from his life came to us 
in a very short time ! 

And that brightness is not done away, — not for us, 
and not for you. It has been, and it is, and it always 



14 



will be: only there is added to it the new brightness 
unutterable, beyond the vision of our human eyes. 
As in the far North, at summer-time, the night takes 
some of the light from the day that is dying, and some 
of the light from the day that is coming, and behold ! 
there is no darkness; it is all light; it is all day: — so 
is it not possible that you and I can take some of the 
brightness of the day that is past, and some of the 
brightness of the eternal day that is yet to be, and 
drive the darkness, even of death, away? Alas for us 
if it were not so ! Death would be doubly death, save 
as we moved in such a faith. 

" Alas for him who never sees 
The stars shine through his cypress trees ! 
Who, hopeless, lays his dead away, 
Nor looks to see the breaking day 
Across the mournful marbles play ; 
Who has not learned in hours of faith, 

The truth, to flesh and sense unknown, 
That life is ever lord of death 

And love can never lose its own ! " 

But there is another word we would say to you ; and 
this, too, a word of confidence in the goodness of God. 
No experience comes to us in life, but it has a key in 
its hand. It opens new doors for us to enter. It 
is a messenger whom the Lord sendeth before His 



15 

face to prepare the way before Him. Even the hard- 
est things of all have something to teach us, some- 
thing to bring into our lives. There is a wonderful 
word of the Lord Jesus, where He says, " Everyone 
must be salted with fire." That means that the savor, 
the taste, the salt is put into every life by the fire in it, 
by its burdens and troubles and sacrifices. The sweet- 
ness, the flavor, of human life is put into it by the bur- 
dens it bears, the labors it performs, the offerings it 
makes. How true that is! Does that life have the 
true taste of motherhood in which no burdens or sacri- 
fices of a mother ever come ? Does that life have the 
genuine flavor of citizenship which is all sordid and 
selfish and corrupt in its public service, into which no 
flavor of sacrifice and loyal service ever comes? And 
in the Christian life the true flavor of Christ comes 
with the cross ; it is salted with fire. And here, in the 
hour of sorrow, the Lord requires of us that we render 
up in sacrifice the savor of the sweet taste of Christian 
life. 



" Ah ! if Himself Christ comes to thee, and stands 
Beside thee, gazing down on thee with eyes 
That smile and suffer ; 
And reach to thee Himself the holy cup 
Pallid and royal, saying, ' Drink with me,' 
Wilt thou refuse ? Nay, not for paradise ! 
The pale brow will compel thee ; the pure hands 



16 

Will minister unto thee ; thou shalt take 

Of that communion through the solemn depths 

Of the dark waters of thine agony." 

Perhaps there is no service of human life so genu- 
ine in the sight of God as this which we can render in 
the day of our resignation. 

But God leaves us neither to bear our sorrow, nor 
to transform it into our glory, by ourselves alone. 
God has many great angels who wait before Him, 
ever ready to go forth and do His bidding ; but one, the 
greatest of all, the Angel of His Presence, He sends 
forth to the help of those who are broken-hearted. 
As John Wesley said in his day of darkness: " The 
best of all is, God is with us." He is our strength and 
our helper all the day long. 

God would not have you sorrow less than you do; 
for God knows, knows even better than we do, how 
worthy was the life of Alfred Raymond of our sor- 
row, how worthy of our tears. He knows how we 
miss him, for He made him one who would be greatly 
missed. 

Yet God would not have you sorrow more than you 
do; for God knows, knows even better than we do, 
how great is the light unto which we lift our eyes. 
Let us walk in this light (for we are children of the 
light) until the day break and the shadows — all the 
shadows — flee awav! 



17 
ADDRESS BY FRED. W. HINRICHS 

OF BROOKLYN, N. Y. 

Let me speak from my heart, as a representative of 
Plymouth Sunday School and the allied branches 
of the religious life and work of Plymouth Church, a 
few unpremeditated words. 

The first time I met Alfred Raymond, he was on 
his way to the Long Island College Hospital, to min- 
ister to the sick and suffering by song and reading 
and kindly sympathy. The last time I saw him, he 
was in his classroom in our Sunday School, sur- 
rounded by the young men to whom he was giving, 
not only instruction in Biblical study, but also the 
inspiring example of a gentle, noble life. 

It was not long that we had him with us as a com- 
panion in our work. He returned to us, after many 
years of study at college and university, and of for- 
eign travel, an accomplished man, fully equipped for 
the duties of life. And here he devoted himself, with 
all his talents and acquirements, to the service of Jesus 
Christ. Although this activity, as it seems to us who 
remain, was ended all too soon, we must count his life 
as one of the few completely successful ones; for it 
fulfilled the highest conception of life. Such a con- 
ception came to me when once I lay on my bed, suf- 
fering with the very fever which slew our friend, and 
not knowing whether it would be my fate to live or 



18 

to pass away. I remember how I felt, at that time, a 
kind of intellectual satisfaction in the thought that, 
if I should die, some of the great mysteries of life and 
death would be solved for me. This thought became 
itself the beginning of a new revelation, leading me 
to perceive that, for the fulfilment of the highest 
ideals of life, we must be tender, true, and helpful ser- 
vants of others, using our strength in order that those 
who are weak may receive strength. 

Alfred Raymond did not need to have this revela- 
tion made to him through hours of pain and weak- 
ness. It was the habitual atmosphere of his tireless 
and manifold activity. Of such a kindly life we have 
had in him an uplifting example. Every time I met 
him I felt that I was becoming a better man, because 
of that meeting. 

Christ spake, and opened His arms. His loving 
invitation was obeyed; and Alfred Raymond was 
folded in the eternal embrace. 

But while we say that he is dead, I feel that he is 
now standing at my side, with his kindly hand upon 
my shoulder, and saying to you through me: " If you 
loved me, can you forget or neglect for a moment 
this church that was so dear to me, — its worship, its 
fellowship, its Sunday School, its sweet traditions 
and associations? If you loved me, will you not with 
new fervor and devotion pledge yourselves to the ser- 
vice of this sacred work? " 



19 

When we look upon our pastor, standing bereft of 
this strong, hopeful, helpful friend, as he has been of 
many others in recent years, how can we lose our 
zeal in the cause of the Master, who needs us more, 
not less, by reason of these earthly losses ? 

In loving memory of Alfred Raymond, let us 
emulate the beauty, gentleness and unselfish devo- 
tion of his character, and the generosity with which 
his many talents and accomplishments were always 
placed at our service. Let us strive to do our share 
towards filling, in some measure, at least, the place 
which his translation to a higher activity leaves so 
sadly empty here. " If you love me," I am sure he is 
saying to us now, "if you love me, do this for my 
sake." May that voice reach our hearts, and that 
message abide unf orgotten as an inspiration through- 
out our lives ! 



PRAYER BY REV. SAMUEL SCOVILLE 

ASSISTANT PASTOR OF PLYMOUTH CHURCH 

Lord Jesus, our Saviour and Friend! How often in 
the days and weeks past have we said, with the watch- 
ing ones of this household, " Lord, he whom Thou 
lovest is sick ! " and have waited, hopeful ! But no ap- 



20 

peals, no prayers, no vigils — neither care nor science, 
nor love, deep and abiding, could avail; and now we 
stand here in the presence of a great Silence! We 
cannot say, as was said of old, " If Thou hadst been 
here our brother had not died; " for Thou wert here, 
yet Death came, too. Thou didst strengthen our 
hearts with hope through the long struggle; and 
when that hope was gone, behold! Thou didst re- 
place it with a larger, brighter hope, embracing the 
world beyond the horizon, and still able to strengthen 
the heart. 

We cannot grasp Thy purpose with the fullness of 
understanding. We stand in the shadow of a mys- 
tery; but it is not all darkness. When we see Thee 
giving to death an ineffable joy, then the dark- 
ness gives way to light; for we see the sun, and be- 
yond the sun the opening of eternal glory, where life 
is all and always, and death is not. And walking 
in this light, we are ready to say, * Because Thou 
wert here, and art here evermore, our brother did not 
die!" 

And this light which thus transfigures our sorrow, 
what is it but a faint reflection of that mighty glory 
into which our brother has entered ! Oh ! what meet- 
ings are there; what gladness of fellowship; what 
perfect vision ; what strength of abiding youth ; what 
joy of unwearying service! And, as through earthly 
years his every joy was shared with others, so now we 



21 

are cheered, even in our sorrow, by the overflow of 
his heavenly bliss unutterable. 

We thank Thee, O God ! for what Thou gavest to 
us through him, and for the precious memories he has 
left us. Every influence a benediction; every act a 
seed of good fruit ; home a center of radiant love and 
peace unbroken ; the Church of Christ another home ; 
all occupations and accomplishments of life the ve- 
hicles of noble aspiration and unselfish service ! How 
many hearts are drawn to Thee by these recollections 
of him ! 

Heavenly Father, who gavest Thy Son for the 
world, be very near unto these parents who have given 
their children unto Thee! Bless them again and 
again with the gracious influence of Thy Holy Spirit, 
that their faith fail not in any hour of weakness and 
loneliness. Tenderly comfort and sustain, we pray 
Thee, the daughter who now remains the only one in 
visible presence of that family of children, so many of 
whom are with Thee, in the place that is being pre- 
pared for those who remain a little longer here. And 
to all this numerous company of kindred, a great 
family — blessed be Thy name! — one family in heaven 
and on earth, grant the eternal companionship of love 
inseparable. 

Let this sacred sympathy of sorrow be an abiding 
inspiration to this church of Christ — a new bond of 
union; a new memorial of glorious history; a new 



22 

baptism unto life everlasting. We pray for the pas- 
tor of this church, that he despair not under this great 
loss, or any loss which does but promote to higher ser- 
vice the soldiers he has led. Raise up new soldiers, to 
fill the places and emulate the courage, patience, loy- 
alty, and skill of those who are gone. There is no ac- 
cident in Thy kingdom. There is nothing beyond 
the reach of Thy grace, mercy, and comfort, and no- 
thing which can defeat Thy victory. 

Bestow upon all the comrades and friends of Al- 
fred Raymond the blessing of his serene, triumphant 
life and death, to abide with them through all the 
years to come. 

And grant unto us all in this world the ever-grow- 
ing knowledge of Thy truth, and in the world to 
come, life everlasting. So, when all of earth has 
passed away, and Heaven opens for us the shining 
gate of death, we will enter with great joy, to be for- 
ever with our beloved and with Thee ! Amen. 



The congregation united in singing " The Shining 
Shore" — the triumphant funeral hymn immemori- 
ally dear to Plymouth Church; after which Dr. 
Hillis said : 

" Alfred Raymond was also a soldier. His stock was the 
stock of brave men. His great-great-grandfathers on both 



23 

sides served in the Continental Army of the American Revo- 
lution. His great-grandfather was a soldier in the War of 
1812. His grandfather was a leader in the peaceful struggle 
for liberty and against slavery which preceded the War of 
the Rebellion, and his father was an officer in the Union Army 
during that war. He was himself, for more than the legal 
time, a member of our Twenty-third Regiment of the Na- 
tional Guard of the State of New York, and when that regi- 
ment was called out to resist public violence, he did his part 
bravely and gladly, as a defender of order and law. In rec- 
ognition of his record as a Companion of the Military Order 
of the Loyal Legion of the United States, and a member of 
the Twenty-third Regiment of New York State, a comrade 
will, at the end of this service, sound the familiar farewell 
bugle-call of ' Taps ' over this Christian soldier." 

In accordance with this announcement, and after 
the benediction had been pronounced, the well-known 
signal of a soldier's rest was sounded as the last note 
of the funeral service. 



jHemortai JWeetmg of ^ipmoutf) 

Cfmrrf) 

FRIDAY EVENING, NOVEMBER 1, 1901 

Remarks of S. V. White 

More than a hundred and fifty years ago an English 
poet, Rev. Edward Young, published the poem called 
" The Complaint, or Night Thoughts." It was much 
read when I was a youth, and no belles-lettres scholar 
would have counted his education complete unless it 
embraced a familiarity with this book. The verses 
were written at a period of great affliction, involving 
the loss of both wife and child. I read it in my boy- 
hood, and certain of its lines on the subject of death 
have stayed with me until the present time. I quote 
the lines, without emphasis upon the first part, which 
is, perhaps, cynical and bitter. In the second part, I 
find the thought for this evening. The lines sprang 
instinctively to my mind for utterance when I saw 
the parents of this beloved young man bereft of their 
son. 



25 

" Like other tyrants, death delights to smite. 
What, smitten, most proclaims the pride of power 
And arbitrary nod. His joy supreme 
To bid the wretch survive the fortunate ; 
The feeble wrap the athletic in his shroud ; 
And weeping fathers build their children's tomb, — 
Me thine, oh loved one ! 

What though short thy date f 
Virtue, not rolling suns, the mind matures. 
That life is long which answers life's great end." 

Dr. Hillis read the other evening, at the funeral 
service, a similar thought expressed in a writing much 
older than that of Rev. Edward Young, namely, the 
passage from the Book of Wisdom, to be found in 
the Bible, as used by the Catholic Church, which says, 



" Wisdom is the gray hair unto men, and an unspotted life 
is old age. 



?? i 



We, here in Plymouth Church, have hoped for so 
much in the coming generation from Alfred Ray- 
mond; we felt such bitter disappointment when the 
sad news came, with the cruel thought that we could 
see him or depend upon him no more, — that we have 
failed to realize how much he has already done. We 
have not realized fully the truth that 

" That life is long which answers life's great end." 
1 Wisdom iv. 9. 



26 
We have failed to realize that 

" An unspotted life is old age." 

Thirty-six years was the period of his sojourn here. 
Those of us who have been members of this church 
a longer time than that have seen him — baby, child, 
youth, student, young man, and soldier equipped, 
in the full panoply of Christian manhood, for the 
Christian warfare. We had come to depend upon 
him so much, and to feel that his usefulness was a 
treasure which we would enjoy for so many years! 

At first sight there was nothing but sadness and 
darkness. He was most thoroughly prepared to live. 
Has it occurred to you that he who is most thoroughly 
prepared to live is best prepared to die? 

Let me glance at a few characteristics of this young 
man, that we may the better realize what I shall try 
to make the burden of my address, — that he entered 
into the life beyond with every faculty equipped 
for the highest and best enjoyment. A great Latin 
writer made one of his characters say what I shall 
translate to you freely and liberally, 

" I am a man, and I deem that nothing which is manly is 
foreign to myself ." 1 

With what fidelity to truth young Raymond could 

1 Homo sum, et nihil humani alienum puto. ? ' 



27 

say this! He lived a life of enjoyment, with every 
faculty attuned to the quickest perceptions of joy and 
gladness. His sense of humor was so delicate and ap- 
preciative that if you would but suggest the germ of 
a humorous thought his mind turned it into the fullest 
efflorescence on the instant. When the Dooley papers 
began first to satirize at once the foibles of political 
life on the one hand, and the imperfect appreciation 
of vital questions on the other, I remember to have 
heard Alfred Raymond read them to a group of 
friends who were convulsed with his reading of 
the wit and the humor of the text. His was the 
deepest and fullest appreciation of what was in- 
volved in the satire; and, although I had been pre- 
viously lightly reading, and, as I thought, appre- 
ciating, these papers, I confess that his rendition of 
the text, embellished with his own appreciative 
humor, gave me an insight into them such as I never 
had had before. 

You all remember the little operettas in which he 
had so prominent a part, not only as composer, but 
also as performer. What delicate subtlety there 
was in the ridiculous positions of his characters ! How 
his eyes twinkled, and how the smiles played around 
his lips, as he evolved the little opera bouffe! I never 
knew a man with a keener appreciation of humor and 
of the pleasantries of life than Alfred Raymond had. 
How all the graces seemed to wait upon him! Wit, 



28 

Anecdote, Sentiment, Letters, Art, Science, Music, 
and Poesy were his attendants, and gave charm and 
beauty to his life. 

But he turned from these pleasantries to the Chris- 
tian duties which confronted him; and, with earnest 
heart and willing hands, he did the things which his 
judgment dictated to be the best for the Church and 
for the community. He rallied about him the boys 
and girls, the " Knights and Ladies of the Round 
Table," giving days and evenings of his time and 
thought for the uplifting of these young minds 
and hearts. No duty that presented itself as neces- 
sary to be done ever found in him an unwilling re- 
sponse. 

He adopted architecture as a profession, giving it 
patient, careful toil, and was growing in achievement 
and name and fame in that profession. As Dr. Hillis 
mentioned at his funeral, he was great-great-grand- 
son of a Revolutionary sire; he was great-grandson 
of a soldier of the War of 1812; he was the son of a 
veteran in the War of the Rebellion; and he, the 
tender-hearted, loving young man, entered the Na- 
tional Guard of our State and became a soldier, with 
a conscientious recognition that upon the stability of 
the military power of the State depended the public 
safety of property and of life. One is reminded of 
the lines written by Dr. Johnson for Goldsmith's tab- 
let in Westminster Abbey : 



29 

" There was almost nothing in the department of letters 
which he did not touch, and nothing which he touched 
that he did not adorn." 1 

And young Raymond's life is a subject for these 
same words, applied to deeds as well as letters. 

With all this beauty of character, he has gone from 
us. Let no doting, loving heart ever harbor the 
thought that he has gone prematurely. He was so 
well fitted to live, that he was at all times fitted to die. 

And so, unbroken by life's great afflictions, un- 
scathed by the lightnings of fierce trial, he has gone 
to his reward. I have lived nearly twice as long as he 
lived. My active business career has been nearly four 
times as long as his was. I know, perhaps in an in- 
tenser degree than most persons do, how acute and 
terrible is the anguish of life and of its complications ; 
and knowing what I do about them and about him, 
feeling a depth of sympathy for his beloved parents 
too intense for expression, I feel, now and here, that 
were I they, and could I by a word undo the tragedy 
of the last few weeks, I should tremble to speak that 
word. Oh, the terrible force in life and in death of 
that sentence of Daniel Webster, " The past at least 
is secure " ! 

1 Qui nullum fere scribendi genus 
Non tetigit, 
Nullum quod tetigit, non ornavit." 



30 

These words were spoken, as you all know, in eulogy 
of the early history of a great State ; but how many 
interpretations they bear, and what fitness they have 
to a career rounded up — so perfect, although so short 
— as was the career of Alfred Raymond! ' Secure," 
a strength which had never broken under temptation. 
" Secure," a beneficence which had never felt the 
blight of selfishness! "Secure," a love won from 
every community in which he has ever moved, in the 
sweet unison of whose harmonies there has never been 
heard a discord ! 

Alfred Raymond lived a life of virtue ; and 

" Virtue, not rolling suns, the mind matures." 

He showed, by his works, by his acts, and by his ex- 
ample, how to " answer life's great end," and 

" That life is long which answers life's great end." 
His was an unspotted life, and 

' ' An unspotted life is old age. ' : 



Remarks of H. W. B. Howard, for the Choir 
and Music Committee of Plymouth Church 

Alfred Raymond was, indeed, a most valuable mem- 
ber of the Choir and the Music Committee; but he 



31 

was so many other things besides, and I was closely 
associated with him in so many lines of our church 
work, that I may not limit myself to this topic. It is, 
in fact, the variety of his labors among us that really 
is my theme, together with a consideration of the wis- 
dom of our accepting so much from any one member 
as we received from him, in view of the interests that 
must suffer when such an one drops by the way. It 
is so well known that Alfred Raymond did nearly 
everything better than any one else could do any- 
thing, that I mention it now only for emphasis. His 
departure is to us not merely that of a beloved 
friend and potent co-worker, but of the chief mover 
in so many spheres of our church work that the cry 
arises on every side, " Our leader is gone! " 

In the Music Committee, Alfred was so efficient 
that we sought to have him re-elected as often as the 
rules of the church would permit. He knew music; 
he knew the voice; he knew how to bring about the 
things that ought to come to pass. He was so essen- 
tially a part of the responsible directorate of the 
church music, that even during the " year off " which 
the rules of the church require, we still looked for his 
cooperation, and, in emergencies, during the absence 
from town of the members of the committee, we de- 
pended wholly on him, — as we did, so securely, last 
summer. 

To the choir he brought what was easily the best 



32 

voice in his part ; and his musical certainty helped all 
the others. Regular attendance in a volunteer choir 
is a quality as valuable as any other; and the invari- 
able presence of this faithful member was an influ- 
ence that told materially on the choir-work you have 
enjoyed in these past few years. The voice he gave 
to your service, steadily improving under cultivation, 
was a solo voice, — as we all know, who have heard 
him entertain the Plymouth League with his singing 
for a whole evening ; but he gave it to the service of 
Plymouth Church, as he did all his talents, gladly and 
unreservedly. How deep an impression he made on 
his associates in the choir, as a friend, was shown on 
that sacred evening when we met in this room for 
his funeral, at which there were present, on a notice 
sent out only over-night, practically the whole choir, 
including every one of the soloists who were in the 
city. 

I have been thinking of the various interests in this 
church that will be affected by the departure of Al- 
fred Raymond; I have counted up nearly a dozen 
lines of work in which he was officially a significant, or 
the chief, or the only, factor ; and, as I now recall sun- 
dry things that he did incidentally, but quite regularly, 
the list of his activities among us continues to grow. 
Taking our church work at large, I do not know of a 
circle among us that will not now have a vacancy to 
fill. 



33 

Under the influence of such a loss, there will be a 
generous desire to do something to " fill Alfred Ray- 
mond's place." But no one can fill the place of any 
other; and if, without the vain attempt to fill his 
place, we do what we can to see that Alfred Ray- 
mond's work is continued, it will take a good many 
of us to do it. We, who saw him do things in public 
so easily, or saw what he brought to pass, in quieter 
ways, little realized how much conscientious work he 
gave to the enterprises he undertook among us. He 
had great talent, in many directions; but he did not 
rely on talent and inspiration to do the things that 
satisfied us, — he worked over them beforehand, and 
gave us the results of intelligent labor, with talent 
behind it. That is why he did things so much better 
than the rest of us. 

It is a natural question — and I offer it for consid- 
eration now — whether it is wise for us to let any one 
person do so much as Alfred Raymond has done for 
Plymouth Church. Not on his account, — men of his 
kind will work for some interest, just as he worked 
for us ; and work for Plymouth Church brought its 
own satisfaction to him, as it did to his father and his 
father's father, — but for the sake of the church. Can 
we afford to have so many interests vitally affected 
as they must be when we lose such a man as Alfred 
Raymond? Naturally, we like to have everything 
done in the best way, and we turn to such men to do 



34 

them in that way. We cannot expect that men as 
unselfish as he was, will refuse to render services for 
which they are qualified. But we may easily come to 
depend on them for so much that, when they go from 
us, we shall be called on, as we are now, to take upon 
ourselves more than we can readily provide for. 

It is a relief to be able to make this question of 
church economy the burden of my remarks. I could 
not trust myself to dwell too much on the personal 
element. I have lost a brother in the church and a 
constant associate in all my own church work. Be- 
yond that, I have lost a cousin and brother in our 
family, born when I was a well-grown boy, and de- 
veloped through youth to manhood while I was seek- 
ing to find my place among men; and yet it was he 
the younger, rather than I the elder, who was the ex- 
emplar as to matters of character and conduct. I 
dare not enter here upon that more intimate relation- 
ship. 

Yet, here in Plymouth Church, we are so much like 
one family, that I am sure this personal experience is 
not peculiar to me, though mine were the special ties 
of kinship with him. 

We all know that we have had a radiant, Christ- 
like young man among us, and that his influence will 
not cease so long as we cherish his memory and con- 
tinue his labors. 



35 



Remarks of Chauncey Ives, for the Young 
Men's Club of Plymouth Church 

The members of the Young Men's Club of Plymouth 
Church, after hoping and clinging to the last, to the 
least chance of recovery (it being so hard to under- 
stand that we must give him up), are overwhelmed 
with the sense of our great loss, when we are forced 
to realize that our beloved President has gone from 
among us. We are dazed, and for the time being are 
like a ship at sea without a rudder; he was so much, 
in so many ways, to this club and its members. The 
first and only thought that comes clearly to us now 
in our sorrow, is, What can we do in loving memorial 
of him? 

He has left behind a memory of ceaseless activity 
in the faithful service and interest of everything con- 
nected with this great, historic church, which he 
loved so much. How can we more fittingly evidence 
our appreciation of him than by determining, God 
helping us, to stand more closely shoulder to shoulder, 
in trying to fill this great vacancy of loving service? 

No one man of us can fill his place, or, in any large 
sense, supply his gentle, yet remarkably forceful, 
personality ; but his going from us should bring us to 
what we know he would ask of us, in memory of him, 
— a closer touch with each other, for larger and more 



36 

united efforts in the consecrated work to which he 
was so devoted. 

He walked before us, the pattern of a true Chris- 
tian gentleman, abounding in good works, full of the 
tenderest consideration for others, and the highest 
conscientious faithfulness to duty. One of the hot- 
test nights last summer, I found him down at the 
Italian Mission on Front Street, trying to teach and 
lift up, by personal touch, those poor Italian boys. 
The surroundings were anything but inviting on such 
an evening ; but love and duty were his first and only 
considerations. 

Shakspeare says, " The evil that men do lives after 
them; the good is oft interred with their bones." 
Alas! we recognize this too often; but the immortal 
influence for good which this brave young man has 
left in our hearts, will long survive ; and we shall all 
live nobler lives, with higher aspirations, that Alfred 
Raymond has lived among us. For his labors and for 
his example of love, we rise up and call him blessed. 



Remarks or Horatio C. King 

Alfred Raymond was born the very month I took 
up my residence in Brooklyn ; and, being in the same 
domestic circle, I have known him and watched his 



37 

development through thirty-six years, and with an 
interest stimulated by his childhood's precocity and 
attractive presence, his never-failing good nature and 
his gradually unfolding and brilliant attainments. 
Much has been said of his unusual versatility. I re- 
call that, before he went to college, he was always the 
admired center of a group of little ones, who listened 
with deep enjoyment to his improvised fairy tales; 
and in all our social entertainments he was always a 
leading spirit. He was a poet, an actor, a musician, 
a composer, an artist, an architect, with an inexhaust- 
ible fund of invention and a masterful tact in per- 
formance. As a librettist he had as keen a humor as 
Gilbert, and as a topical song- writer he was unique. 
After the Spanish war, Admiral Dewey was a guest 
of the Loyal Legion at Delmonico's in New York, 
and Alfred sang one of his Spanish war-ditties, which 
convulsed the great assemblage of veterans after 
every verse, and especially pleased the hero of Manila 
Bay, who was incidentally mentioned. Alfred was 
excellent also in the higher realm of poetry, and to 
such a degree that he received from the Society of the 
Army of the Potomac an invitation to deliver a poem 
at its Annual Reunion which, by reason of a modest 
appreciation of his own merits, he declined. 

If I were to draw any lesson from his active, beau- 
tiful life, it would be that, even from the low level of 
mere enjoyment, it " pays " to be a Christian. Al- 



38 

fred was here, there, and everywhere, always doing 
something to make others happy : and he received his 
reward in the reciprocal happiness which is sure to 
come. In church work, in the social circle, in his 
company in the Twenty -third Regiment (to which he 
left a legacy of capital songs ) , and in every relation 
he was always the same joyful, hopeful, helpful 
Christian, rilling the atmosphere around him with the 
exhalations of his own lovely nature. He made the 
world better by his presence ; and he has, by precept 
and practice, by speech and by example, made an im- 
pression upon his fellows, and especially upon the 
young men and women of this church, which will not 
soon be forgotten. This has been a sad year for 
Plvmouth, in the loss of some of its most illustrious 
and useful members, among whom Alfred Raymond 
was conspicuous. 



Remarks of Frank M. Brooks 

Alfred Raymond's special association with the 
young men of Plymouth Church began with the or- 
ganization of the Young Men's Union, about twelve 
years ago. This society grew out of a meeting of a 
few young men at the home of Mr. Thomas J. Til- 
ney, and soon reached a membership of from one 



39 

hundred to one hundred and twenty-five, nearly all 
of whom were, by special appointment, engaged in 
one or more of the activities of Plymouth Church, 
then under the pastorate of Dr. Abbott. 

Alfred Raymond was known to all the members as 
a valuable and energetic associate, active in commit- 
tees and skilful in suggestion, and always as willing 
to serve in the ranks as to lead. 

To enumerate the many fields covered by Alfred 
Raymond in this connection, would be to repeat what 
all belonging to Plymouth Church well know; but 
many other things, done by him outside of the imme- 
diate church circle, were known only to a few. Among 
these might be mentioned his regular attendance at a 
Boy's Club in the Bethel, where, week after week, he 
never failed to provide amusement, instruction, and 
education, combined with the inspiration which his 
personal character and bearing always gave. This 
influence was invariably felt, and has not been lost, 
I am confident, by those whom he was striving to 
help. 

For about three years he went nearly every Sunday 
afternoon (except during the summer months) to the 
Long Island College Hospital, accompanied by a 
few others, of whom I was one. With a portable 
organ and song-books for the patients to use, we vis- 
ited every ward, carrying organ and books. This 
hospital, because of its location, receives the most dis- 



40 

tressing accident cases, including those occurring 
along the water-front and also in the poorer sec- 
tions of the city. Very many of the patients were 
friendless, and many were hopelessly ill. They all 
longed for Sunday, when Alfred Raymond and the 
other singers would be there. It was our custom to 
visit the sailors' ward last ; and how those bed-ridden 
sailors roared out " Pull for the shore " and other fa- 
miliar strains, none of us will ever forget. 

On several occasions Alfred Raymond spent an 
afternoon there, giving a talk on travel, illustrated 
with stereopticon views. At other times he read 
aloud to an entire ward, visiting several in succession. 
Is it any wonder that people loved him? 

Alfred Raymond was a true follower of the Great 
Physician, insomuch that he visited the sick, com- 
forted the hopeless, cheered the faint-hearted, and 
gave courage to those who needed it. 

What better can any one do ? 



Remarks of Benjamin P. Blair 

I came here with some thoughts of my own to ex- 
press; but since I came into the room I have seen a 
letter written by Alfred Raymond, only a few weeks 
ago, which shows his real character and spirit so much 



41 

better than any words of mine could, that I want to 
read it in lieu of what I intended to say. 

This letter was written to our Brother Ayers, to 
express the writer's sympathy for him in the loss of 
his daughter, Alice; and it is worth noting, as indi- 
cating the quickness of Alfred's sympathy, that, out 
of more than sixty letters of condolence which 
Brother Ayers received, this was the third in point of 
time. 

Brother Ayers could not command his feelings 
sufficiently to be able to read the letter here himself, 
and has kindly allowed me the privilege of doing so. 

The letter is as follows : 

99 John St., New York, 

Sept. 10th, 1901. 

My dear Mr. Ayers: 

How can I express in words my sympathetic share in your 
grief? The news of Miss Alice's sudden departure reached 
me only this morning, and stirred me profoundly. It seems 
as though I could not bear to have it so. Her strong, helpful, 
cheery nature was such a power in our work and social life at 
Plymouth, and her sweet voice so devoutly graced our wor- 
ship. As a friend and co-worker, I shall miss her keenly, and 
my own sense of loss gives me an insight into your sorrow. 
And yet, may not we — who have so long been taught elo- 
quently and tenderly from our beloved pastors in Plymouth, 
and from the lives and example of our brethren, such inspir- 
ing truth of God's all-embracing love and the continuity of 



42 

life — may we not rise above our pain and grief to something 
like triumphant joy? 

Last week, in our country home, my mother's cousin, a 
maiden lady of about her own age, after a happy summer 
with us, passed quietly away without premonition or pain. 
Only a short hour before, she had been playing merrily with 
my sister's baby. Both Mother and Lily, my sister, were sit- 
ting near, chatting or reading, and thought she had dozed 
off to sleep. Lily had never seen death before, but she told 
me that the sight of this beautiful transition was one of the 
most wonderful experiences of her whole life. There was no 
" shadow of death," but it seemed, rather, that a radiant 
light passed over the beloved features. So sudden a de- 
parture is a strong evidence of the continuity of life, — a 
sweet object-lesson sent by a loving Father. 

I know you will rejoice, my dear friend, in this belief, and 
find comfort in it, in the midst of pain and sorrow. God hath 
not smitten in anger and punishment. He is teaching, ten- 
derly and in various ways, through the mystery of suffering 
and death, His eternal truth. Are not the lives of both your 
daughters radiant lessons ? Are you not proud to think God 
counted you worthy to be enriched with the treasure of their 
precious lives, — your treasure through all eternity? Oh, be- 
lieve me, God's blessings abide always ; He never takes away 
what once He has given. 

I write from a full heart and cannot say all I feel for you 
and your wife and daughter Florence. May God send you 
all the comfort of His presence and the realization of the 
nearness of Himself and your beloved. 

Your sincere friend, 

Alfred Raymond. 



43 

Remarks of Frank Rudd 

I do not come to-night to speak for Plymouth 
League. That the League will do, in another time 
and way. What I have to say of Alfred Raymond is 
what no one else can say — for it relates to the last 
words he uttered in this room, speaking to my wife 
and myself after the prayer-meeting had closed, and 
when nearly every one had passed out. ' For once in 
my life," said he, " I came, feeling that I really had 
something to say to the people at Plymouth prayer- 
meeting. I felt full up to here " — putting his hand to 
his throat. " I could hardly get here fast enough, I 
was so eager to speak. I am downright disap- 
pointed ! " 

We asked him what it was that so stirred him up. 
" Oh," he said, " I have had such a beautiful experi- 
ence this summer — just like a wonderful sunset. It 
was a death in our family. A dear lady, a cousin of 
my mother's, was spending the summer with us, and 
we had all greatly enjoyed being together; and then, 
just as all the pleasant time seemed coming to a close, 
her life went out one day, quite peacefully, without 
any pain, as she lay resting on Mother's bed; she just 
went naturally to sleep. We had her funeral ser- 
vices at our house and Father conducted them, and 
what I heard Father say at that funeral made life 
and death and the other world all seem so different 
to me from anything I ever thought before, that I 



44 

felt as if I had made a great discovery, and I have 
been in a state of exaltation ever since. I won't try 
to tell you of all the working of it in my mind ; but it 
has brought me home full to the brim with desire to 
give myself and my time and all I can do to help 
Dr. Hillis this winter; and I wanted to make an 
earnest appeal to the non-workers of this church, 
young and old, to enter into a covenant with me, to 
work with me in upholding Dr. Hillis's hands, and 
helping him all we can. Oh, I had so much to say; 
and, when the meeting took such a different turn, I 
felt it was all out of place; and now — I fear my 
chance is gone forever." 

After that, he went on to speak of Plymouth 
League, and what he intended to do for that, and 
asked me to forgive him for having had me made 
Vice-President, though I had said I did not wish to 
serve this year; saying that he had had me named 
Vice-President to work with him. 

And then we went out together arm-in-arm from 
this room, hallowed ever since by his memory, and 
doubly hallowed by the scenes of Tuesday night, 
which none of us will ever forget. 



Remarks of Elijah R. Kennedy 

Standing in the amphitheatre, addressing the Roman 
populace, Mark Antony in the play is describing the 



45 

assassination of Csesar, and as he refers to the fall of 
the great man he exclaims, " Then you, and I, and all 
of us fell down." Young Alfred Raymond is dead, 
but the loss is not alone that of his parents ; it is the 
loss of Plymouth Church, and it especially shocks 
each of us fathers who have sons grown to manhood. 
I know there are several of us here to-night who feel 
so keenly the bereavement that has plunged us all in- 
to mourning, that it is difficult to avoid a sort of feel- 
ing that death has invaded our own households. 

I did not know young Raymond as well as some of 
you did. I have not been in this church long. But I 
admired him very much. I observed somewhat, and 
I learned more, of the work he did in every depart- 
ment of the activity of this great church. I saw most 
of him in the work of Plymouth League. A year 
ago they elected me President of that society. It was 
several months before I was notified of my election; 
and then I protested that I could not find time to 
perform the duties of the office. Upon the assurance 
that all the work would be done by committees, I ac- 
cepted the honor that had been offered. And now 
I have to declare that, except for the work of the 
ladies, — they decorated the room above, when we had 
the reception to Dr. Hillis, and they provided bounti- 
fully and served gracefully refreshments on several 
occasions, — Alfred Raymond did the entire work of 
the League during the year. When he said certain 



46 

arrangements would be made, I felt sure they would 
be ; and I was never disappointed. He made no fuss. 
He never boasted. Indeed, he never even promised 
much. He quietly said that certain things should be 
done ; and they were done. 

I wish I had told him how much I admired him, but 
I never had an opportunity. I shall always remem- 
ber him as a sweet and noble gentleman. 



Remarks of Barclay Dunham 

A little over a week ago, as I was entering the 
courtyard of Dr. Raymond's house, a friend of Al- 
fred's stopped me and said, " How is your brother? ' 
He was my brother, in the best sense of the word; 
and, though I am not a member of your church, I 
need make no excuse for adding my tribute to his 
memory. 

Alfred and I went to school together, and slept to- 
gether. In my life I have never come into contact 
with so white a soul and so pure a mind. His motto 
might well have been, " My strength is as the strength 
of ten, Because my heart is pure." 

You have heard of his many and wonderful ac- 
complishments as a man, and you have seen the flow- 
ering of his promise as a boy, — for he was then doing 



47 

the things he did better than others could do them. 
In the possession of his mother are at least two gold 
medals for first prizes in oratory, the winning of 
which barred him from further competing. There 
are books, and sets of books, which he received for ex- 
cellence in Greek, in Latin, and in other studies. As 
he was active in manhood, so was he active in boy- 
hood. The principle governing his life seemed to be 
unremitting labor, and mostly for others' benefit. 

It has been my melancholy pleasure, during the last 
few days, to sort a large number of letters received by 
Alfred. They divide themselves into two classes. 
The first begin, " Will you help us? " the second be- 
gin, " Thank you for helping us." There is no need 
for comment. 

Those who have spoken this evening have, in the 
main, confined themselves to one phase of Alfred's 
character ; so I want to speak of his love for children, 
and will give you two instances. When my little boy 
was brought home from the hospital, where he had 
been for weeks, owing to an accident, Alfred, who 
had always had time to write to him, came up to see 
him the first night we had him with us. When my 
little girl was so ill that she could not move out of bed, 
Alfred always had time to come and read, and draw, 
and amuse her. Alfred always had time — and time 
enough — for any one in trouble. And as we loved 
him, so did the children. If there is one lesson I may 



48 



be permitted to draw from his life, it is that the per- 
fect and rounded career is one of ceaseless activity in 
the service of others. 



Remarks of Robert van Iderstine 

We like to think of a man in connection with his rela- 
tions with his fellow-men. After we have granted to 
him the possession of great ability, the performance 
of deeds that have been of service to the community, 
the power of teaching, or whatever else stands out 
when his lif e-work is done, we come back to his per- 
sonality, his character, — the influence of his life on 
our own and the lives of others. In that thought, our 
affections are touched. More than that, these rela- 
tions are the most important element in our lives. 
We are made to live in the society of our fellows : a 
normal, healthy individual cannot exist alone. Upon 
these social relations, using that word in a broad sense, 
our lives are constituted. 

You and I who knew Alfred Raymond cannot 
think of him apart from those with whom and for 
whom he lived, nor apart from his church and the ac- 
tivities of his life. To few men is it permitted that 
they should fill such a place in these social relations 
as he did ; and none could do so except such an one as 



49 

Alfred Raymond was, with his wonderful unselfish- 
ness, his sympathy, his kindliness, his genial and de- 
lightful temperament. 

You know, of course, that I do not intend to use 
the word " social " in its narrow meaning : the more or 
less frivolous intercourse for simple personal enjoy- 
ment. Alfred Raymond's whole life was character- 
ized by a participation in the activities of his fellows 
which was the expression of his ambition to serve them 
and to give to them something of his own life. To 
you and to me it was a perpetual pleasure to be on 
close terms of friendship with such a man: a man 
without pretensions, without any assumption of piety ; 
a man among men, and withal one whose whole life 
made us not only happier but better. 

One of the most interesting things about him is 
that so much of his ability and so much of his activity 
were focused in the work of the church which he 
loved. In that church he was able to find expression 
for the varied powers of his mind and the prompt- 
ings of his lovable and loving nature. 

Others have spoken of many of the activities in 
which Alfred Raymond was engaged. Let me refer 
to only one, which comes to my mind because of these 
thoughts to which I have tried to give expression : his 
relations with and his influence upon younger men 
and boys. I know something of Alfred Raymond's 
life and work with them, and have watched it for 



50 

some years. There are few of my acquaintances 
whose influence with younger men and boys could be 
compared with that which he exercised. 

When some of us try to teach or guide boys who 
are approaching manhood, we fail because we become 
pedants, or because we don't know how, or in some 
way do not inspire in them the affection, the confi- 
dence, and the esteem which is necessary to that rela- 
tion. Alfred Raymond succeeded ; and it was not so 
much because of his ability, though he had it, for that 
is not the most important thing : he succeeded because 
he was the soul of sincerity, because he had a genuine 
affection for and interest in these boys, because his 
character was such that he commanded their respect 
and confidence, because his personality was such that 
he commanded their affections. In Plymouth Sun- 
day School he taught a class of these young men. In 
the church, he became President, leader in fact, as 
well as in name, of the Young Men's Club. To no 
one of his friends was his death harder than to these 
scores of young men; and their lives, I venture to 
predict, will be the richer and the better for having 
known him. 



Remarks of Dr. Edward Everett Cady 

Alfred Raymond impressed me as the most Christ- 
like young man I ever met. I did not know him in- 



51 

timately, as many of you did; but it was not neces- 
sary to know him intimately to realize the beauty of 
his character, or the source whence that beauty came. 
It isn't necessary to explore the Arctic regions to re- 
alize the purity and whiteness of snow: a handful 
suffices for that ; and five minutes' conversation with 
Alfred Raymond was sufficient to show the purity 
and whiteness of his nature. Further acquaintance 
might make one love him more ; but it could not make 
one more certain that his life was patterned after 
Jesus Christ. 

If I were to sum up in one word the impression 
Alfred Raymond made on me, it would be this — 
gentle. He was a gentle-man, and his life, and the 
words we have heard to-night concerning him prove 
how much more real power there is in gentleness than 
in force. Gentleness and kindness are Christ-like 
qualities, and that was why Alfred Raymond re- 
minded us of Christ ; they are powerful qualities, and 
that is why Alfred Raymond accomplished so much. 

I remember, with great pleasure, how he used to 
stand at the door of this room and greet me, as I 
passed homeward, with a smile that will always linger 
in my memory because of its peculiar gentleness. I 
thought of it this summer while in the woods, and of 
the kindly face in the choir which was always a part 
of the Sunday service to me. His smile, his words, his 
life, exerted a positive influence for good on every 



52 

person who came near him, and this influence will not 
die with him, but will go on and on to others forever ; 
for " Kind words can never die." 

Briefly summed up, the lesson of Alfred Ray- 
mond's life to me was one of gentle helpfulness to 
others; the great lesson, after all, of Christ's life, 
brought nearer home. The positive force of gentle- 
ness and helpfulness, which Alfred Raymond pos- 
sessed in large measure, he gave without stint to this 
church; and now that he is gone, the first practical 
question that comes home to us to-night is this — who 
is going to take his place ? Surely not any one man, 
or two, or three men of my acquaintance can do so. 
It will require the united efforts of several of us who 
are near his age to do his work. Are we willing to 
undertake it — to make the effort — to do what we can? 

I have thought almost with fear of the decimation 
in our ranks during the past year, and have asked 
myself what is to become of Plymouth Church, now 
that so many of these strongest pillars have been 
taken away. Most of us owe much to Plymouth 
Church ; some of us owe all the faith we have to her. 
What are we going to do in return for the good we 
have received here? For me, the time has come to 
make an earnest effort to do more than I have ever 
done before for this church, and I promised myself, 
when Alfred Raymond lay in his casket here in this 
room last Tuesday night, that I would begin at once 



5S 



to do the first thing that offered, to fill the gap in the 
ranks that his going away has made. How many are 
there here who will join me? 



[The most impressive feature of this memorial 
meeting was the rising of several hundred young 
men and women, in silent pledge of their readiness 
to do what was in their power for the work of Ply- 
mouth Church, in special memory of Alfred Ray- 
mond, — a pledge, the immediate effect of which was 
plainly seen in all departments of the church work, 
and, after many months, still abides.] 



Resolutions of g>octettrs, €tc. 

Board of Managers of Plymouth League 
New York, November 11, 1901. 

My Dear Dr. Raymond: 

The Board of Managers of Plymouth League, in- 
stead of passing formal resolutions, considered it 
more cordial to have me say to yourself and Mrs. 
Raymond, in the League's name, that in the death of 
our beloved President, the League has sustained a loss 
which touches every heart in its membership, all miss- 
ing his cheery helpfulness, his earnest skill, and most 
of all his genial presence ; that the League tenders to 
you both its heartfelt sympathy, and couples with this 
its heartfelt congratulations to you upon being the 
authors and trainers of so noble and lovely a life. 

Faithfully and sincerely yours, 

Frank Rudd^ 

Vice-President. 



55 

Young Men's Club of Plymouth Church 1 

The members of the Young Men's Club of Plymouth 
Church desire to express their sense of personal loss 
in the death of their friend and leader, Alfred Ray- 
mond. 

Since the inception of the Club, of which he was 
the President, unanimously chosen, he was the guide 
and able adviser of its councils, while his gentle and 
courteous manner and warm sympathy quickly won 
him friends among the young men. His enthusiasm 
was keen and contagious, and his great abilities were 
tirelessly devoted to the cause of Christ. His going 
leaves a vacant place, which we feel cannot be filled. 
It is good to have known him and to have called him 
friend, and his influence will continue to be felt long 
hence in the scenes of his activity. Every heart in 
our organization goes out in warmest sympathy to 
those whose closer relations than those of companion 
or friend make his departure to the other home so 
deeply felt in the one he has left; and the Club de- 
sires by this minute to convey to Dr. and Mrs. Ray- 
mond some expression of their feeling. 

Alvin H. Sweeney. Eliot V. Shepard. 

Warren S. Halsey. T. C. Davenport. 

This memorial was delivered to us, exquisitely illuminated 
and ornamented, and bound in vellum. R. W. R. 



56 



G. Harry Jackson. 
Seth Williams. 
Lawrence W. Atwater. 
James R. Brown. 
Frederick W. Bosworth. 
Harris Gilbert Eames. 
Otis L. Remington. 
Edward Everett Cady. 
Wm. A. Armstrong. 
Geo. W. Bardwell. 
Howard G. Boardman. 
Samuel Scoville. 
J. Lee Cochrane. 
Geo. C. Fischer. 
Frederic N. Gilbert. 

James 



Milton R. Vail. 
Chauncey Ives, 
John B. Gilbert. 
Dr. John C. Wyman. 
John A. Jackson. 
James Spence Neilson. 
Spencer Tallmadge. 
W. L. Fish. 
Giles N. Haley. 
Henry Stark Goodspeed. 
Howard Talmadge. 
Robert Van Iderstine. 
W. Otis Badger, Jr. 
H. V. Bicknell. 
Lewis C. Kelting. 
S. Hall. 



Congregational Club or Brooklyn 

It is the custom of the Congregational Club of 
Brooklyn to take note of the death of its members, 
and to record its appreciation of their worth and its 
sense of loss in their departure. 

Alfred Raymond, one of our members, died on the 
28th day of October last. He had not been with us 
long, and was personally known to but few members 
of the Club; but all who knew him loved him; and 



57 

those who knew him best loved him most. He was 
still a young man, far on the hither side of the merid- 
ian of life, and retained the charm and beauty of 
youth. A sweeter, purer, or nobler soul never looked 
out of kindlier eyes. 

He was a Christian and a gentleman by inheritance 
from a long line of gentle and devout ancestors ; and 
he had not forfeited his birthright. Born and reared 
in Plymouth Church and under the influence of its 
first great pastor, he had developed, as he grew into 
manhood, a symmetry and beauty and strength of 
Christian character of the highest order. His piety 
was as genuine and unaffected as it was robust and 
manly. Bright ; cheerful ; possessed of a lively sense 
of humor ; fond of fun ; gifted with rare capacity to 
amuse and entertain ; a musician and an artist ; refined 
and graceful in his manners; courteous and cordial 
everywhere and to everybody; sincere, generous and 
unselfish; pure in thought and in word; sympathetic 
and altruistic in an eminent degree ; zealous and prac- 
tically helpful in every good work; facile princeps 
among his fellows; — such a man was the Alfred 
Raymond whom old and young in Plymouth knew 
and loved. As such a man, he would have been 
known and loved in this Club had his life been spared. 

W. W. Freeman, 

Secretary. 



58 

Yale University, Class of 1888 

W her e as 3 Our beloved classmate, Alfred Ray- 
mond, has been taken from us by the hand of death ; 
and 

Whereas, The endearing qualities of heart and soul 
which won our affection, and the brilliancy of intel- 
lect which gained our sincere admiration at Yale, had 
ripened with the years into noble and able manhood — 
now cut off at the very moment of full fruition ; 

Resolved, That we, the Class of 1888 at Yale, bear 
witness to our love for the man, to our pride in his 
rare talents, and to our profound grief at the un- 
timely loss which has come upon us. 

Resolved, That we extend to his family our heart- 
felt sympathy in this, their great sorrow, and that we 
send to them a copy of these resolutions. 

Lucius N. Palmer, 
Fred. P. Solley, 
Ephraim M. Youmans, 

Committee. 



Yale University, Wolf's Head Society 

Whereas, Our friend and classmate, Alfred Ray- 
mond, has been taken from us through the Divine 
wisdom ; 



59 

Whereas, His upright character, his brilliant mind, 
and his true heart during our four years at Yale com- 
manded, still command, and always will command 
our respect, our admiration, and our love; 

Resolved, That we, the members of the Wolf's 
Head Society of the Class of 1888 at Yale College, 
unite in expressing our profound sorrow at our loss. 
Resolved, That we extend to the members of his 
family our sympathy in their grief, and that we send 
to them a copy of these resolutions. 
Wolcott G. Lane, 
Lucius N. Palmer, 
Edward A. Stevenson, 

Committee. 



University Glee Club, New York City 

Alfred Raymond, an active member of the Univer- 
sity Glee Club of New York and a graduate of Yale 
University in the Class of 1888, died on October 28, 
1901. He was a man of large attainments and ster- 
ling character, who evinced remarkable versatility in 
many fields of knowledge and activity. He pos- 
sessed in an unusual degree both literary and musical 
talent, and during his connection with the Club his 
presence and his counsel contributed greatly to its 
success. 



60 

Be it Resolved, that we, the Active Members of the 
Club, do hereby express our appreciation of the lov- 
able character and high ability of our late fellow- 
member, Alfred Raymond, and our personal loss by 
his death; that we extend to his family our sincere 
sympathy in their sorrow. 1 



American Institute of Mining Engineers 

At a meeting of the Council of the American Insti- 
tute of Mining Engineers, held December 17, 1901, 
the following Minute and Resolution were adopted: 

The Council desires to place on record its deep 
sense of the loss sustained, not only by the Secretary 
himself, but also by the American Institute of Min- 
ing Engineers, through the death, October 28, 1901, 
of Alfred Raymond, the only son and for many 
months past the efficient editorial assistant of Dr. R. 
W. Raymond, Secretary of the Institute. 

At successive meetings of the Institute, and in cor- 
respondence or personal intercourse with its members, 
Mr. Raymond had won a wide and hearty recognition 
of his brilliant talents and charming personal charac- 

1 This memorial was delivered to us illuminated and framed. 

R. W. R. 



61 

ter. His removal by death in the prime of his useful 
and most promising career deprives his parents of the 
dearest of sons, his innumerable friends of a cherished 
companion, the Institute of an esteemed and beloved 
servant, and the world of a devoted, generous and ac- 
tive lover of mankind. 



Military Order of the Loyal Legion 
of the United States 

Headquarters Commandery of the State of New 
York, 

New York, April 1st, 1902. 

At a stated meeting of this Commandery, held at 
Delmonico's, corner of Fifth Avenue and Forty- 
fourth St., the following was adopted as the report 
of the committee appointed to draft Resolutions 
relative to Companion Alfred Raymond (Second 
Class) , (Insignia No. 12735) , who died at Brooklyn, 
N. Y., October 28th, 1901, aged 36 years. 

Report 

Alfred Raymond, A.B., B.S., only surviving son of 
Captain Rossiter W. Raymond, A.D.C., U. S. Vol- 



62 

unteers, and Sarah Dwight Raymond, died in Brook- 
lyn, N. Y., on the 28th day of October, 1901. He 
was born at Lakeville, Conn., August 31st, 1865. At 
the age of nineteen, after preparatory training at the 
Brooklyn Polytechnic Institute and the Hill School, 
Pottstown, Pa., he entered Yale University, where he 
was graduated with high standing in 1888, and imme- 
diately took, at the School of Mines of Columbia Uni- 
versity in New York, a three years' course in en- 
gineering and architecture. This was followed with 
two years of practice in an architect's office, after 
which he studied for two years at theEcole des Beaucc 
Arts in Paris, and traveled in Algiers, Spain, Italy, 
Greece, Germany, France, Belgium, and Great Brit- 
ain, visiting all important cities and architectural 
works. Upon his return in 1895 he began the prac- 
tice of his profession as an architect, and designed and 
executed, with creditable success, during the three 
or four years which followed, a number of plans for 
residences, etc. In 1899, he became the chief assis- 
tant of his father in editing the publications of the 
American Institute of Mining Engineers — a work 
for which he was peculiarly fitted by his knowledge 
of foreign languages, his literary skill, and his scien- 
tific training. Although undertaken as a merely 
temporary service, it occupied him until his death. 

Mr. Raymond was for ten years a member of Com- 
pany A of the Twenty-third Regiment of the New 



63 

York National Guard, and served with his regiment 
in the protection of life and property from riotous 
assault. With humorous reference to the missiles 
used by the hostile crowd at Buffalo, he used to say 
that he had received in that affair his " baptism of 
fire-bricks " ! 

He was unusually brilliant and versatile — an artist 
of high merit, and a musician and poet of no mean 
ability. His librettos and songs evinced exceptional 
talent. Many of the Companions who read this no- 
tice will recall the hearty laughter and applause which 
greeted his singing, at the reception of Admiral 
Dewey by this Commandery, of one of his own songs 
of the Spanish- American war. He was also an ama- 
teur actor of special excellence, and frequently ap- 
peared in his own plays and operettas. These gifts 
he devoted with unwearied generosity to the enter- 
tainment of his friends, the support of charitable un- 
dertakings, and the social life of Plymouth Church, 
of which he was an active member and officer. Both 
within and beyond that communion, his varied ac- 
complishments and genial disposition endeared him 
to large circles of those who now lament his early de- 
cease. He was unmarried. 

Resolved, That this Commandery deeply regrets 
the untimely departure of this valued Companion, 
whose brilliant talents gave assurance of a life of 
ever -increasing usefulness and power for good. 



64 

Resolved, That the Commandery hereby tenders 
to his family and friends its sincere sympathy. 

Resolved, That this report be entered upon the rec- 
ords of the Commandery and that a copy be sent to 
Companion R. W. Raymond, father of the deceased, 
Horatio C. King, 

Brevet Colonel, U. S. V. 
George W. Brush, 

Captain U. S. V. 

Committee. 



National Guard or the State or New York 
Company A, 23rd Regiment. 1 

At a regular meeting of Company A, 23rd Regi- 
ment, N. G. N. Y., Borough of Brooklyn, New York 
City, held November 6th, 1901, the following Pre- 
amble and Resolutions were adopted: 

Whereas, Alfred Raymond enlisted in Company 
A, 23rd Regiment, N. G. N. Y., October 8th, 1888, 
and was fully and honorably discharged October 
17th, 1898, and 

Whereas, On the 28th day of October, 1901, an 
all-wise Providence saw fit to remove this former 
companion from this life : 

1 This memorial was delivered to us, engrossed and illuminated 
upon parchment. R. W. R. 



65 

Resolved, That we, the active members of his old 
company, remembering his faithful service, cheerful 
companionship, and willing and lasting contributions 
to the welfare of the organization, do suffer by his 
death a severe loss. 

Resolved, That we hereby express our great sor- 
row, and extend to his bereaved family our deepest 
sympathy. 

Resolved, That a copy of the Resolutions be sent to 
the family of our deceased Comrade, and be spread 
upon the minutes of the Company. 

Committee: 

DeWitt C. Weld, Jr., Chairman 
Henry E. Story B. V. R. Speidel 

Louis J. Praeger, Captain 
DeWitt C. Weld, Jr., 1st Lieutenant 
Coxe G. Rasmus, 2nd Lieutenant 



Jflemortai JBtottces 



Yale Alumni Weekly 
Dec. 4th, 1901 

From a Memorial Prepared by a Committee Repre- 
senting the Class of 1888 

Those of us who were privileged to know him well 
at college were constantly impressed with the loveli- 
ness of his nature and with his truly remarkable ver- 
satility. With a temperament essentially artistic, yet 
with a mind equally apt in scientific attainment or in 
classic lore, he combined a rare beauty of character 
and dignity of manhood. As an evidence of his 
many-sided nature, it may be recalled that the Yale 
Literary Magazine published many delightful con- 
tributions from his pen, in verse and prose. As an 
editor of the Yale Record, his skill with the pencil 
practically established that journal as a successful 
illustrated bi-weekly. His musical ability made him 
a valued member of the Glee Club, while his dramatic 
talent was well known to his classmates. His schol- 
arship was invariably of a high order, his sense of 
duty unwavering, his integrity spotless. 

66 



67 

Out in the world of work he carried the same love 
for the artistic, the same capacity for achievement, 
the same high ideals of conduct. After a three years' 
training at the Columbia University School of Mines, 
where he took the degree of Ph.B. in 1891, he spent 
four years of preliminary study and travel in this 
country and in Europe, in preparation for his chosen 
life-work, architecture. 

And now, after five short years of activity, devoted 
not only to his profession and the world of art, but 
also — as was characteristic of the man — to the inter- 
ests of his country and of his fellow-men, he has been 
called to lay down his work, and with it the promise 
of a brilliant future in this world — forever. 

Lucius N. Palmer, 
Fred. P. Solley, 
Ephraim M. Youmans, 
Committee. 



Stray Shot 

" The Gunnery," 

Washington, Conn. 

The people of Washington are conscious of a great 
personal loss in the death of Alfred Raymond, who 
for several years past has been thoroughly appre- 
ciated as one of the most active and interesting mem- 
bers of the summer colony here. The participation 



68 

of Rev. Mr. Carter in the funeral services at Ply- 
mouth Church, Brooklyn, fitly represented the Wash- 
ington community as mourners for one who in many 
ways had identified himself with his summer home 
among us. . . . 

Personal contact with Alfred Raymond always de- 
veloped appreciation of his talents and accomplish- 
ments, which all admired ; but, still more, recognition 
of his lovely character and his intelligent sympathy 
with whatever interested others — their joys and sor- 
rows, aspirations, successes, and defeats, their intel- 
lectual and spiritual concerns. He attracted all — 
young and old, of every station, according as they 
were qualified to understand him. In Brooklyn, in 
Plymouth Church, at the Hill School, in the Ameri- 
can Institute of Mining Engineers, in Washington, 
among the eminent men who came from a distance to 
attend his funeral, among the suffering poor, — to 
whom he had given abundant evidence of the sincer- 
ity with which he had adopted the motto he had writ- 
ten on the fly-leaf of his Bible: " To visit the father- 
less and widows in their affliction, and to keep himself 
unspotted from the world," — he has left the memory 
of a strong young man sent forth to do his Master's 
service, consecrating to that service unusual abilities 
and unselfish devotion. 

In all these places named, he was as active as among 
us in Washington ; and the work he did was of many 



69 

kinds. In Plymouth Church he is said to have been 
an important, or the controlling, or the only factor 
in ten or a dozen different lines of work, relating to 
the devotional, the administrative, the ethical, the 
esthetic, and the social concerns of the church. The 
sense of loss merely to the working force of the church 
has been such as already to have stimulated the young 
men to new activity, in the effort, not to make good an 
irreparable loss, but to keep his work alive, under the 
inspiration of his memory. 

His success in the great variety of undertakings to 
which he gave his attention has been attributed to the 
sincerity with which he brought his abilities to bear 
on every task, irrespective of its importance or the ca- 
pacity of his audience to discriminate. His talents 
and his complete use of them have had their meed of 
admiration and praise ; and if it be suggested that the 
most admirable thing about him was his rare charac- 
ter, the same explanation may serve: as by constant 
endeavor he developed his talent into skill, by the 
same means he rounded a fine nature into a character 
universally recognized as exceptionally beautiful and 
lovable. 

Friends of Alfred Raymond, to whom Washing- 
ton is dear, have rejoiced in his identification with old 
Judea. He knew the Washington spirit, for it was 
kindred to his own. He was happy in its congenial 
atmosphere, and gladly welcomed all the opportuni- 



70 



ties and duties it afforded him. Many rare spirits 
have found their way to Washington, and have been 
attracted to make it their home and the scene of their 
useful labors — and then have passed from our sight. 
Conspicuous among these is Alfred Raymond, but 
his memory and his works remain. We shall not look 
upon his like again. 



Prof. John Meigs, in Hill School Record, 
pottstown, penn. 

He scarce had need to doff his pride or slough the dross of 

Earth- 
E'en as he trod that day to God, so walked he from his birth, 
In simpleness and gentleness and honor and clean mirth. 

So cup to lip in fellowship they gave him welcome high 
And made him place at the banquet-board — the Strong Men 

ranged thereby — 
Who had done his work and held his peace and had no fear to 

die. 

Beyond the loom of the last lone star, through open dark- 
ness hurled, 
Further than rebel comet dared or hiving star-swarm swirled, 
Sits he with those that praise our God for that they served 
His world. 

Kiplixg. 



71 

Into the life of the school in its earlier years, Alfred 
Raymond came from a home whose spirit has been 
reflected, if but feebly, as has that of no other home, 
in the atmosphere of The Hill. His parents had 
been the inspiration of the inexpert youth who sought 
faintly to assimilate their nobler ideals in his dawning 
hopes and purposes for the school of these later 
days; and when to counsel and sympathy was added 
this gracious token of parental confidence and affec- 
tion, there was signalized the actual birth of The Hill 
School of these years of greater strength and broader 
achievement; because this lad had in him such quali- 
ties of heart and mind as made him the teacher of his 
teachers, the master of his masters, by the sheer force 
of love and purity and gentleness and joyousness, 
blended with a courage that was dauntless and a se- 
renity that was not of earth. 

In the retrospect of many years I may deliberately 
say that only one other has taught me lessons so vital, 
so fundamental, as did this boy in the few years of 
our fellowship in the life of the School from 1880 to 
1884. 

Unconscious of self, eager for the service of others, 
ever wearing upon his heart " the white flower of a 
blameless life," he kindled in all about him a glow of 
loving, joyous sympathies that welded together the 
household which he alternately moved to laughter 
and to tears by the wit and pathos of his subtle speech. 



72 

His purity of character, which gave distinction 
to his whole life, even then shed its aureole about his 
brow ; and the glory of this quality did not repel, but 
rather challenged others to rise with him to their Di- 
vine heritage. 

Then, too, a marvelous eagerness to add to the joy 
and beauty of other lives was ever his. With increas- 
ing years was developed greater ingenuity and re- 
sourcefulness in invention; but in his early boyhood 
the same sweet unconsciousness of subtle versatility 
marked his tireless ministry of wit and wisdom in the 
leisure evening hours of the school's life. 

His spirit pervaded every boyish enterprise for the 
amusement and the betterment of his fellows, and, 
though not given to preachments, his whole life in 
boyhood diffused the spirit of the higher levels of fel- 
lowship with Him whom he simply and radiantly 
served and followed. 

The life of no other boy or young man that I have 
known matched his for sustained, undimmed, and lu- 
minous purity. In his brief thirty-six years he ac- 
complished the end of all life — perfect harmony with 
the life of God, and, for the grace and glory of hu- 
man life, virtually attained to the full-orbed years of 
old age; for, "An unspotted life is old age," and 
" He being made perfect in a short time, fulfilled a 
long time." The simple and fruitful lesson of this 
lif e is that a spotless boyhood is not only possible, but 



73 

is the normal precursor of the manhood whose glory 
is love and whose strength is goodness. These are 
the imperishable things — for these we may well, as 
boys and men, resist and renounce not merely selfish- 
ness and sordidness and uncleanness, but even the ten- 
dencies and self-indulgences that blur our vision or 
blunt the keen edge of our perceptions that may dis- 
cern the simple, secure basis of purity of mind, sanc- 
tity of body, and self-sacrifice of spirit. 



Alfred Raymond as Student and Architect 
by henry f. hornbostel 

I first became acquainted with Alfred Raymond at 
the School of Mines of Columbia University in New 
York, which he entered, after his graduation at Yale, 
for the purpose of studying architecture as a profes- 
sion. We were members of the same class, received 
our degree as Bachelors of Science together, and after 
a couple of years of wholesome practice in office-work 
with New York architects, we went together to 
Europe and the Ecole des Beaux Arts. By that time 
we had become close friends, by reason of our long 
companionship, our common work, our similar tastes 
and, perhaps even more, our widely different tem- 
peraments and beliefs. I had never known, until I 



74 

met him, a young man of such strong, serene reli- 
gious faith, so pure in word and act, so absolutely al- 
truistic, yet so full of activity, enjoyment, and humor, 
and so easily a leader in play as well as work ; and I 
shall never cease to be grateful for the moral benefit 
which I received from his companionship and ex- 
ample. The French students, who did not possess, 
and probably could not comprehend, his religious 
ideal, were, nevertheless, somehow impressed by it; 
and they recognized very quickly his social gifts, as he 
taught them to sing American college-songs, in witty 
French versions of his own, or helped them to design 
fantastic decorations, or worked hard and well, after 
the student-fashion of mutual assistance, upon the 
details of their belated pro jets. He was both petted 
and respected by them. 

It was characteristic of him that he took his work 
seriously. He was not one who would slight a design 
in order to get it quickly done, and thus comply, at 
the least cost, with some formal class duty. But he 
was a wonderfully quick, as well as careful, designer, 
draughtsman, and colorist. While he had thoroughly 
and conscientiously studied all branches of his pro- 
fession, I think he liked best its artistic, rather than 
its constructive, side; and his special joy was in 
beauty of architectural details, external or internal. 
The innumerable sketches in his note-books, made in 
England and in all parts of the continent of Europe, 



75 

bear witness to this. They comprise many quaint bits 
of roofs, dormers, belfries, etc., or combinations of 
color and form in ceilings and wall-decorations. His 
skill in water-color sketches was remarkable, consid- 
ering the fact that he had not pursued this art for it- 
self, but only used it as an aid in his professional 
work. One of his water-colors was accepted and 
hung in the Salon, while he was a student at Paris. 

He was always doing something — and very often 
it was for somebody else. To give pleasure to an- 
other was apparently the greatest pleasure he desired 
for himself. It may easily be imagined that he was 
the most charming of house-mates or of traveling- 
companions. To these qualities in him, I owe the 
happiest memories of my young manhood, as well as 
the deeper obligation, already confessed, under which 
he unconsciously placed me by his pure and unworldly 
character. 

After our return to this country, we did some 
things as architects together ; and some things he did 
by himself. His characteristics as a student were ex- 
hibited in his responsible work also. Earnest, tire- 
less, ingenious, deft of hand and brain, delicate, 
graceful and harmonious in details, what he wrought 
he wrought well; and though his early death pre- 
vented any great achievement, he has left nothing 
that is not creditable to him and satisfactory to those 
for whom it was created. What he might have ac- 



76 

complished, with so much genius, industry, and pre- 
liminary equipment of knowledge and training, it is 
impossible to say. A few residences and schemes of 
interior decoration, and a multitude of charming 
sketches, give indications of his versatile power. But 
the greatest thing he built was his own bright, high, 
strong life. Death did not strike soon enough to pre- 
vent the completion of that structure, and its admir- 
ing recognition by all who looked up to it. 



Alfred Raymond as a Musician 
by percy l. atherton 

Alfred Raymond's nature was as genuinely musical 
as any I have ever known ; in its appreciation of mu- 
sic, extraordinarily catholic. But he was first of all 
the artist, excelling in every form of art which he 
undertook, yet pouring out his finest sentiment and 
enthusiasm into music. 

As interpreter he was unique. Those who have 
seen and heard a performance of : ' The Heir Ap- 
parent" (in which Alfred, unsupported, was the en- 
tire dramatis persona?) need no further testimony as 
to the originality of his art, his peculiar grace, his in- 
variable good taste, his genius for artistic detail. His 
versatile talents as designer of costumes, author of 



77 

rhymes, singer, actor and stage -manager, made up a 
singularly complete equipment. The last perform- 
ance of " The Heir Apparent " took place at Mag- 
nolia, Mass., on July 26, 1901, and was thoroughly 
successful, netting a large sum for Boston's South 
End Day Nursery. It was a fit farewell to his public. 

He had a well-cultivated voice, unusually sympa- 
thetic in quality, and with a compass of two and a half 
octaves ; and his retentive memory comprised a large 
repertoire. 

His musical intelligence was very quick. In read- 
ing at sight, even in MS., he seemed to feel intui- 
tively the intention of the composer, and often to an- 
ticipate with true musical insight. I once enlarged 
upon this fact, to him, and I recall his pleased sur- 
prise at my outburst. 

In other directions, his interpretations were equally 
admirable. When he became the possessor of a pian- 
ola, he quickly mastered its technique and produced 
the effect — far more rare than many are pleased to 
think — of a genuine performer at the pianoforte. 

His skill in versification, united to his love of mu- 
sic, naturally led him toward the writing of text for 
operas and songs. He had grown up in the atmos- 
phere of the Gilbert and Sullivan operettas; had 
acted and sung in the principal roles of some of them, 
with the young people of the home circle, and had 
thus become thoroughly imbued with the spirit of 



78 

text and music. This, no doubt, had greatly devel- 
oped his natural talent for verse, and sense of rhythm. 

In 1889 he began the libretto of " The Heir Ap- 
parent," and finished it in 1892. 

In 1894 he wrote, in Paris, the first act of a grand 
opera, " Fridolin," after Schiller's ballad: " Der 
Gang nach dem Eisenhammer." This act was sub- 
mitted to professional criticism, and met with decided 
encouragement; but the libretto was never com- 
pleted. 

In 1897 or '98, he wrote the book of " The Ma- 
haraja," a brief Indian opera comique in one act, for 
three solo voices. This, fortunately, has been com- 
pleted in text and music both, and had a successful 
debut at the Harvard Musical Association, in Boston, 
April, 1901, at which Alfred recited the occasional 
dialogues to musical accompaniment. Although his 
best and most spontaneous work was in humorous 
verse, yet some of the serious passages (notably in 
"The Maharaja") are beautiful and full of poetic 
feeling. 

He had the knack of improvising a second, either 
bass or tenor, to melodies but newly heard,— a knack 
founded on a sure instinct and a natural sense of har- 
mony. I recollect that when he and his aunt made a 
vocal duet of Rubinstein's Melody in F, with sacred 
words written expressly for them, he improvised the 
tenor part. I regret that I never wrote it down. I 



79 

could not have composed anything so rich and effec- 
tive. It was the spontaneous expression of one who 
thought with his voice. 

Such are my musical impressions of Alfred Ray- 
mond. Fate was kind to me in keeping our paths 
together for so long a time, and I am very grateful 
for the many memories of our fellowship. Not along 
musical lines alone do I feel myself the richer; but 
this is not the place to speak of other matters. His 
sense of the beautiful influenced everything that he 
did, and this it was that made his brief life so brilliant 
and complete. 



Cjtracts jfrom personal betters 



From Rev. Henry Ward Beecher 

In Alfred's Boyhood, April, 1884 

Now as to your letter. You seem to me like one who 
prays that his lamb might become a lion, his singing- 
bird an eagle, his tender and fragrant vine an oak. 
It is likely that Alfred will do his own work, and that 
God knew what He was about when He framed him 
to express the moods of purity and gentleness. You 
cannot shape his life for him ; it is in him, of his own 
kind, and though that kind is not what you expected, 
it is that which God gave him. For my own part, I 
should be well content to see more like him. The 
power of simple shining is very great. Men seek for 
energy, — for a warrior's force, — but Meekness is the 
one quality that shall possess the earth, and there is 
none too much of it. What if Alfred does not see 
the rough materials in boys' lives, or fails to recognize 
the imperfections of ordinary boys' dispositions, and 
seems almost cut off from them by a sweeter and 
purer disposition; is that a thing to worry over? I 

80 



81 

should not want my child to run the risk of being 
tempted in all points like as others are, that he might 
have sympathy; he might not be, like his Master, 
without sin. On the whole, I would wait to see the 
fruit of his life, before forming a judgment of what 
is best. 

If I do not seem to understand your case, pray re- 
member that I know of no others who have any such 
trouble ; most boys have full faith in the sinfulness of 
sin in average mankind! 

Give my love to all of the household, and believe 

me to be, 

Ever and always, 

Your loving friend and pastor, 

Henry Ward Beecher. 



From Rev. Lyman Abbott, D.D. 

If I were to choose one word with which to charac- 
terize Alfred Raymond, it would be the word lovable. 
His intellectual versatility was remarkable. As an 
architect, he seemed to me to show genuine creative 
power. As an artist, within the lines in which he 
wrought, he showed equal capacity to absorb the best 
teachings and to make them his own in reproductions, 
which were more than copies. His letters, which I 



82 

was occasionally permitted to read, prove his capacity 
for literature, if he had chosen that as his vocation. 
And we all knew his charm of speech and manner in 
the occasional addresses, which showed that he might 
have become eminent as a public speaker. But be- 
yond all these intellectual qualities was a certain ver- 
satility of temperament which I find it impossible to 
describe, even to myself. He had a spontaneous life, 
which must find expression in some form of activity : 
I can conceive of him as resting, but never as idle or 
really unemployed. He possessed a genial humor 
which pervaded all that he did or said or was, and 
made him a light-giver wherever he went. His sym- 
pathy with all sorts and conditions of men gave him a 
pass-key to all hearts, and his unselfish spirit put him 
always at the call of others, to whom he freely gave 
his life in unnumbered services. 

There are some men whom it is impossible to be- 
lieve dead; such a man is Alfred Raymond. I can- 
not conceive him as ever growing old, so full was he 
of life, or as having ceased to be the same joyous 
spirit in the unknown world that he was here, where 
we knew his winning smile and rejoiced in his always 
joy-bringing presence. Looking on his life, one's in- 
stinctive thought is, How natural and how attractive 
is the true Christian temper; how immortal the true 
Christian spirit ! 



83 

From Rev. Ernest H. Abbott 

In the midst of the sorrow, I rejoice, as I know 
you rejoice, not only in all the gladness, helpfulness, 
and wholesomeness which Alfred made more abun- 
dant in this world, but also in the certainty that such 
a life, controlled as it was by the Master, does not 
end. He was extraordinarily rich in all the brighter 
possessions of life; but he did not hide his Lord's 
money ; freely he received, freely he gave ; it is good 
to know now that he is living, as he always did live, 
in the joy of his Lord. 



From William C. Beecher 

We had all grown to love him for his innate lov- 
ableness, for his self-sacrificing goodness, and for his 
splendid abilities, shown in every line of work which 
he had ever undertaken. To very many of us it will 
seem as though God's hand had been laid upon our 
own household, so dear had he become. 



From Prof. Samuel B. Christy, University of 

California 

I have hoped and prayed that it might not be true. 
I cannot bring myself to believe that that handsome, 



84 

brilliant young man, with all of life before him, is no 
more. I shall never forget the evening I spent with 
you in Brooklyn, and I shall always rejoice that I 
have met him, and the picture of your life together 
will always remain with me as an ideal seldom realized 
in this world. . . . 

I had hoped to see him grow into your duties and 
carry out the traditions for the Institute that you 
have created — oh, I had hoped so much for him and 
from him ! I shall always remember him as I saw him 
that night, handsome as Adonis, brilliant and gentle 
— and so I shall always see him, clothed in immortal 
youth. 



From Rev. Charles Cuthbert Hall, D.D. 

As one who has known your dear son from his 
childhood, and has followed with admiration his beau- 
tiful life, I must beg to express to Mrs. Raymond and 
to you the intense regret with which I learn of his 
death. . . . 

Day by day during the latter part of his illness I 
have borne you upon my heart, hoping so earnestly 
that his strength might be sufficient to resist the 
deadly prostration. Alas! it is otherwise; and his 
brilliant, charming personality is withdrawn from a 
circle where it was so richly appreciated, from a 
world where it seemed to be so greatly needed. . . . 



85 

Oh! how he will be missed and mourned! So re- 
fined, so sensitive, so richly endowed, so loyal a dis- 
ciple of the Master — to give him up is almost more 
than human hearts can do ! I know that his influence 
shall live, — that the beautiful completeness of his 
career shall inspire others. 



From Hon. William McAdoo 

A man of rare and versatile talents and of an un- 
usually chivalrous and beautiful character. I have 
rarely met one who so loved to please and serve his fel- 
lows, and so prodigal in the disposition of his power 
to make life pleasant to those around him. He threw 
the genial rays of a generous heart on the somber 
shadows of the strenuous lives of those who toil, and 
the patient lives of those who wait in pain and weak- 
ness. 

It was refreshing to see such talents, blended so 
happily with self-effacement, and so free from the 
forwardness and conceit which often mark only pre- 
tentious mediocrity. 

The world is less bright to his host of friends and 
admirers since he has gone, but better for that he has 
lived. 



86 

From Rev. Horace Porter 

Plymouth Church is full of noble people and earn- 
est workers in all good causes. But Alfred Raymond 
had forged — nay, bounded — ahead, until he was in 
the foremost rank of diligent, efficient workers in the 
ordinary routine of church -life, — its music, prayer- 
meetings, Young Men's Club, Sunday School, &c. 
But while so active in these, he had certain brilliant 
gifts which, in other spheres, left him without a peer 
or rival. 

The first time I ever met Alfred was nearly ten 
years ago, of an evening, in the Parish House next 
door to Plymouth Church. He was entertaining, in 
his inimitable way, the Working Girls' Club; and 
with heart and soul he did it as beautifully as he 
ever entertained Plymouth League. In story and 
song and recitation, he helped those poor, tired girls 
to forget the sadder side of life; and their joy was 
unbounded. In simple, unaffected conversation, 
also, he mingled with them, whose lives and oppor- 
tunities had been so different from his own, until 
they were at perfect ease and inspired to the very best 
expression of themselves. Where did he get this 
wonderful versatility and adaptability? 

How kind and full of sympathy he was, I can 
never forget, since the hour he snatched from busi- 
ness one day to sit by my side in the hospital and show 



87 

me the photographs he had taken in the Maine woods. 
Because I could not go to the woods he brought the 
woods to me, in beautiful pictures and still more 
beautiful stories of them. 



From Other Friends 



New York City. 

I am proud and happy to think that I am one of 
Alfred Raymond's friends— one, as I do not doubt, 
among many others, whom he in his unselfishness has 
helped through many hard times. 

His sweet, sound advice has saved me from many 
blunders and many errors. I am grateful for every 
minute spent with him, for every word he spoke to 
me, and for all his pure, noble, and loving friendship. 
How much sunshine he has brought me ! You do not 
know, but can well imagine. M A "NT 



Brooklyn, N. Y. 
Knowing much of what Alfred was, did, and still 
promised, in life, in the work of Plymouth Church, 



88 

and in leadership among the younger generation, 
which is now soon to take up and carry on the work 
of the fathers in directing and guiding the life and 
energies of the church, I thank you for him and his 
example to those who are to take his place and carry 
on his work. And I esteem it a privilege to bear wit- 
ness that Alfred was in every sense a pure, noble, and 
worthy son and heir ; pure, noble, and worthy in train- 
ing, faculty, character and promise, and not less so in 
the use he had already made of them, and in the life 
he had lived before us all to the end. 

Dying still young, he has yet left you a heritage of 
sweet and proud memories from which you can never 
be separated. By his death, your name and succes- 
sion may be cut off ; but his name and yours are now 
established in all our hearts, and we will, with you, 
cherish those sweet and proud memories of him for- 

J. A. S. 



Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Others will speak of qualities for which Alfred 
Raymond stood as a brilliant example. I wish simply 
to say that, as a young man of nearly the same age, he 
helped me to " keep the faith." I do not believe it is 
given to a young man to perform a finer service for 
his own generation than just that. 



89 



I trust that this single word of appreciation will 
unite with the words of others in helping you to 
know how his fellows regarded him. w B A 



Boston, Mass. 

The sunny, gifted, open nature could not fail to 
make an enduring impression upon every one who 
knew Mr. Raymond, even upon one whose knowledge 
of him was gained through occasional meetings only. 
And his name will always recall to me his personality, 
which was individual and distinct. 

One cannot witness the going of such a soul with- 
out intimations and insights, which we scarcely gain, 
I think, until we are sensitized by the fact that it is 
a contemporary who is faring beyond our own range 
of experience, and into the far mystery, alone. . . . 

One cannot imagine such a nature as anything but 
radiant and active, and it is small wonder that the race 
ponders and speculates over the mystery toward 
which we must all advance. 1? W B 



Brooklyn, N. Y. 

From earliest boyhood when I learned to know and 
dimly appreciate his character, all through the years 



90 

of youth and manhood, when I came to understand, 
through increasing intimacy, what it was in him which 
was so different from most other men, I have admired 
and loved him. And I am only one of very, very many 
upon whom the beauty of his nature has made the 
same indelible impression. No one among all my ac- 
quaintances could have gone and left behind him so 
large a void, so many genuine mourners. 

In all your sorrow, you will ever have the comfort 
of knowing that a very large circle of friends, — more 
than are attracted to most men, — will carry through 
their lives a truer sense of the beauty of Christianity 
through having seen and rejoiced in his lovely life. 

J. N. B. 



MONTCLAIR, N. J. 

We saw so much of him at our home in Florence, 
some years ago — at a time, too, when we were exiled 
at a distance from all our old friends, — that we grew 
to love him dearly, and our boys fairly worshipped 
him. He was so good and kind to them and devoted 
himself to them so unreservedly, that it was only 
when we had put the younger ones to bed that we 
were able to enjoy him for ourselves, and revel in his 
fresh, suggestive, brilliant conversation until far into 
the night. j j* 



91 

Brooklyn, N. Y. 
I knew him well enough to love him and to feel the 
influence of his well-nigh perfect character. Indeed, 
I consider myself one of many young men, lucky 
enough to know him, who will take his life as an in- 
centive, as well as an example, of how nearly Christ- 
like a man may be. 



RlEGELSVILLE, Pa. 

I have known Alfred since he was a small boy, and 
have always admired his manly ways and his bright 
intellect. Even now I cannot think of him as having 
left us, but see him again in his boyish sports around 
the old Durham furnace ; his swimming-matches, and 
his foot-races along the river bank; his tennis court 
at the "reservoir;" his Punch-and-Judy-shows; and 
the charades, the four-in-hand drives, and — what I 
know you loved best of all — his singing on Sunday 
evenings at the old Durham home. 

Alfred was a lovable boy and a lovable man; and 
knowing the home-life that was so dear to all of you 
as a family, I fully realize what your loss is. The 
record of his pure and unselfish life, his Christian 
character, and the devotion he always gave you, must 
ever be a source of great comfort. We have his beau- 
tiful gentle life to remember. TS F F 



92 

I have just come in from the Sunday School serv- 
ice, the third memorial of your dear son which has 
been held in Plymouth; and yet it seems as if not 
half has been said. 

I hope some one took notes for you of the loving 
words that were spoken Friday evening ; but no pen 
could describe the impressiveness of the closing 
prayer of consecration, as we stood pledged to do 
some one thing to help on the work of Plymouth 
Church, which will so greatly miss the devoted activ- 
ity of Alfred Raymond. T TT O 



Flagstaff, Arizona. 

To all who have been privileged to know Alfred 
Raymond here, I feel sure there is one thought — one 
that is almost a bond — in common. That is, the feel- 
ing that we have never known his like, so there is 
no one, no one anywhere, to take his place for us. 
Well will it be for the best of us if we can leave such 
a memory, such an inspiration, as his life has been. . . . 

Last evening I lay in a reverie, and my mind 
drifted toward some of the plans I had under con- 
sideration two years ago; and all at once I was 
startled out of it by the realization that I had been 
going over the details of my house-plan with Alfred, 
just as if he were here in his own dear, proper person. 



93 

When it came to me I said, " Why, why, he is not 
dead. Of course he's not dead ! " And then the sense 
of loss came over me with redoubled force. But the 
love I have had always, the love I shall have always 
for that dear, inspiring soul, was renewed in that ail- 
too -brief communion. And that he was with me — 
with the best of me — is just as tangible a remem- 
brance as any I have ever had of his joyous compan- 
ionship in years gone by. And nothing shall ever 
deprive me of it. D _ M> R _ 



Los Angeles, Cal. 

His tender, loving influence dates, for Helen and 
me, from the time when he won our hearts in Ari- 
zona, by writing an epitaph for " Chicken Little," 
our pet chicken which had just died. And there are 
a number of other things which we remember so well, 
and have talked over. For instance, in Brooklyn, 
just before we started for Europe, when he took us, 
two bashful little girls, up into what I believe now 
is Aunt Susie's room, and read to us and played with 
us for hours, it seems to me, until it was time to go 
to bed. One Christmas story he read was about a 
little girl who lived in a lighthouse and captured a 
goose for her father's and her Christmas dinner. It 
was in a number of the " St. Nicholas," and having 



94 

looked it up since, all the delights of that evening 
came back to us. 

But his stay in Touraine was altogether delightful 
for us, and it is all very sweet to think over now. I 
do wonder how he managed to make those old cha- 
teaux so delightful: I certainly took no historical in- 
terest in them then; and yet I remember their his- 
tories quite well, and the way he told them to Helen 
and me, never letting us get bored by trotting around 
after grown people; always gentle. We did miss 
him and the others so much when they left for Blois ; 
but the reunion on the thirty-first of August, 
" Uncle " Alfred's birthday and mine, we shall never 
forget. Such wild fun as we had! Each one of us 
had a gingerbread pig, and " Uncle " Alfred and I so 
many other things that I forget what any of them 
were. 

The details of that delightful time Mother, and 
no doubt Helen, could tell you better than I; just 
the general pleasantness of it is what I remem- 
ber best, a kind of pleasantness that came from his 
own personality, that made every one happy. And 
he did enjoy everything so much himself! 

There are countless things, beautiful, sweet or 
funny, that he said or did, which come to me from 
time to time, and which some time I will sit down 
and write to you. 

M. R. 



95 

London, England. 

It was my privilege to know Alfred, and, knowing 
him, it was a necessity to appreciate his rare and 
steadfast spirit and its power upon the lives of those 
who lived closest to him. He stood absolutely alone 
among the men whom I have met for the marvelous 
combination of his endowments. His faith in the 
higher world was more real and his capacity to enjoy 
this one more keen, than that of any other I have 
known. Goodness, courage, intellect and charm were 
lavished upon him, and lavishly he used his gifts for 
others. . . . 

He was one of the very, very few young men 
whose influence was always unswervingly for the 
best side, and who made practical use of his oppor- 
tunities to do good, instead of drifting into visionary 
philosophy. 

" Heartily know, 
When half-gods go 
The gods arrive." 

I think Alfred never wasted a moment upon the 
half -gods. It was all so real, so sure with him that he 
made others sure by the strength of his own convic- 
tions. I am very happy that it was my fortune to 
have known that rare spirit while it dwelt upon earth. 

M. F. M. 



96 

Boston, Mass. 

It was our good fortune, when living in Paris, to 
have Alfred located near. He always made time to 
drop into our little salon Saturday afternoons, at 
our weekly receptions, because he knew it gave us 
pleasure to have him do so. And among the choice 
group of F.'s artist friends Alfred was one of the 
most brilliant. He possessed the rare power of 
winning instant understanding and full sympathy. 
Indeed, his was a life that unconsciously radiated in- 
spiration to others, through its very self-forgetful- 
ness. To know, to love, to serve, were the uses of his 
being. Whatever Alfred gathered through books, 
music, travel or direct intercourse with other minds, 
he gave out freely, so that his every talent became a 
rich, social gift to his friends. 

Memories of many happy hours with your dear 
boy have come to me since hearing the sad tidings 
that in this world I shall no more see his handsome, 
sunny face. 

But now I write to you particularly to tell you of 
two precious acts in Alfred's life that you know not 
of. 

In Paris, one stormy, dreary day, news came to me 
from Boston that my dear father had passed away. 
The echo of sorrow reached Alfred and he came to 
me immediately, and by his sweet sympathy lifted up 
my heart and strengthened me. Strong, young and 



97 

with every earthly blessing, Alfred knew life's sor- 
rows chiefly through sympathy, yet I know he helped 
to sustain many a soul through its Gethsemane. 

Another act, in which Alfred surprised his warmest 
admirers, now comes before me. The Rev. Mr. 
Newell, who had been for a long time at the head of 
the well known " Girls' Club " in Paris, died while 
we were there. There was a large gathering of peo- 
ple at his funeral, for he was greatly beloved. After 
remarks had been made by others, Alfred Raymond 
arose and spoke words that none who heard could 
ever forget. This young man, whom most of his 
hearers knew as an entertaining social favorite, stood 
before them as one inspired, comforting those who 
mourned, wiping away tears, carrying their thoughts 
from the grave to the glories of Paradise. He spoke 
in the noble discharge of Christ-entailed duty. He 
tried to impart to others the same trusting hope in a 
Saviour's love that he himself felt. Surely, for so 
rich a nature, Eternal Rest cannot mean idleness, but 
rather a state where loving labor for others is the 
sweetest rest. T "R "R 



Washington, Conn. 

We all loved Alfred Raymond, and I was quite 
touched when a mother of one of our Washington 



98 

young men, who was brought up in the Gunnery and 
sings in the church choir, told me that this son loved to 
stand by Alfred Raymond in the choir — " not merely 
because he was such a good singer, but because it in- 
spired me to noble living, just to stand next him." 

I think often of his family, and how grievously 
they must miss him; and I thank God that they are 
able to make real to us the Christian faith. To re- 
joice in tribulation is the Christian privilege; and 
every one who is able to do so lifts the whole world 
nearer to God ! M P "R 



Syracuse, N. Y. 

During my visit at Washington, he and I started 
together for a walk from " Hilltop." Two little girls 
met us and each took hold of one of Alfred's hands. 
Soon one was called away for a moment by her 
mother ; she gave the hand which she had held into her 
comrade's charge, saying, " Now don't let any one get 
that ; I will be back in a minute." 

So we went on, the one little girl holding fast to 
both of Alfred's hands till her friend returned. 

W. L. N. 



Brooklyn, N. Y. 

I have known the same anguish and have found the 
comfort from the same Source that you have drawn 



99 

from. As you were with your beloved boy and 
friends were about you, I took Alfred's dear letter to 
me at the time of my beloved son's departure, and 
read it over and over, — not the kind of letter many 
young men could have written. It seems to me so 
many of its expressions could so well apply to him. 
" Indeed [in Alfred's going] there could be no gloom 
of death, but only the joyous sunshine of a young 
hero's triumph." I send you the letter, that you may 
take the comfort from his own words. 

A true Sir Galahad, surely ! -^ ~ 



Springfield, Mass. 

I am thinking of him all the time as he enters his 
new home, where he surely will not feel like a 
stranger. His heavenly beauty of character will now 
find its congenial and fitting environment, and it is 
easy to imagine the warm welcome he has received, 
and his sweet smile as he meets the dear ones awaiting 
him. 

And even his life here has been phenomenal in its 
beauty and blessedness. How universally he was be- 
loved ! It seemed as if he lived in an atmosphere of 
love and light, and so he carried with him a sense of 
good cheer and sweetness, — and, with all his delicacy 
of body and spirit, there was no lack of manliness. 



100 

He was so different from most men, it seems as if he 
was sent from Heaven to bless our lives and show us 
how to live an ideal, bright, happy Christ -life. 

H. S. 



Boston, Mass. 

It took me days to put myself in the attitude of 
facing life without the loving, sunny, bubbling-over 
presence of our dear Alfred. I say " our," for he be- 
longed to many households. 

You both will, I know, understand me when I say 
that the cup of sorrow has deep, rich rejoicing in it; 
the glorious pride we have in such a life, short but 
complete, we must admit, is a benediction for us all. 
Whoever knew Alfred, was the better for him. He 
radiated purity and love. . . . 

1ST ever have I known a private individual so uni- 
versally admired and almost reverenced as he. . . . 

While my heart aches, my soul is full of joyful 

memories. , T T A 

M. JL. A. 



Brooklyn, N. Y. 

How he grew from his babyhood to his beautiful, 
incorruptible, pure Christian manhood, among us; 
how he knew and felt with us all our sorrows, losses, 



101 

changes, and never changed toward any of us, save 
to become more loving and true; and how he graced 
and cheered every place and every occasion, in his own 
peculiar way, that called forth not alone praise for his 
rare talents, but love for what he was ! 

A. H. W. 



Winchester, Mass. 
There has always been a sort of radiance in my 
thought of him, so that there is less a change in atti- 
tude toward so bright a spirit than if he had seemed 
before more like common humanity. I am sure it is 
a feeling many have shared; and yet, his altogether 
human sympathy and humor and affectionateness 
keep him still near and not remote, — as one cannot 
feel of every departed friend, truly as one may be- 

lieve - A. H. C. 



Vienna, Austria. 

Just now the news has come across the sea that the 
beloved Alfred has left you for the Heavenly Coun- 
try, and my heart is drawn toward you all in love and 
sympathy. It is a very strong personal feeling with 
me, for I do feel that Alfred was one of my boys too. 



102 

I was always fond of him, ever since he spent some 
weeks at our house when he was a little fellow. His 
holidays had not begun yet, and the rest of your fam- 
ily were in the country. We all grew to love him, 
for he was as gentle, winning and modest as he was 
gifted, manly and pure-hearted. There was some- 
thing so guileless about him, — he was the child Sir 
Galahad then; it was easy to foresee what a noble, 
knightly, chivalric man he was destined to be. 

And now, in his manly bloom, you have been called 
upon to part with him for awhile. I know how you 
all must miss him, not only in the home-circle, but 
in the church-family, and in many, many circles out- 
side. . . . 

Can you not picture him now, in the full bloom and 
vigor of heavenly manhood, engaged in service and 
study such as even his rare intelligence could not 
compass here? r "R r 



